


Dancing Queen

by Jezmatron



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora is a DANCER, Catra Is A Lawyer, F/F, F/M, Human Catra, M/M, Mentions of a polycule, Minor Angst, Mistakes were made, Modern AU, Modern names, Multi, One Shot, SMUT (Mostly at the end), it Cums good (yeah I know what I did), now Catra is a workaholic, see who you can spot!, some homages to other fan writers - see what you can spot ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jezmatron/pseuds/Jezmatron
Summary: Four Years ago, Catra graduated from her law degree and joined a prestigious firm. But she left her best friend behind. Or her best friend left her.Now she is content. Totally happy. Totally. Working hard, driving up the legal ladder - all good.But a visit to a bar with burlesque might change all that.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Bow/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 161





	Dancing Queen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amitola12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amitola12/gifts), [tshjortile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tshjortile/gifts), [MomoAJojo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MomoAJojo/gifts).



The sound of tentative knocking jolted Catra from the dull-as-dishwater contact she was currently reviewing. Or rather the one she was trying to review - she’d been at it for three hours and it was the twelfth such acquisition contract she’d drafted and reviewed that day. They were all blurring into one. And she was struggling to care.

Which was  _ new _ .

She gritted her teeth, looked to the door to the office and relaxed slightly when she realised it was just Scorpia. The woman had her perpetually-sunny-smile etched on her face, undercut by the slight wince that seemed to always occur when she spoke to Catra.

“Hey, um… not disturbing you, am I, Wildcat?”

Which was just a  _ dumb  _ statement all round. They were both stupidly busy, so by definition any interaction between anyone on the floor constituted some form of interruption. But you had to deal with it - the joy of working for one of the busiest and most aggressive Corporate law firms out there.

Also, Scorpia’s deference was a little jarring - she was actually slightly senior to Catra as she’d qualified a good two years ahead. Then again, Catra had smashed her way up and been promoted quite rapidly since qualifying into the firm.

Catra rolled her shoulders and sighed, then offered a pained smile, “Come in. Weaver checked out early. Got a drink thing, apparently.”

“When does she not?” scoffed Scorpia as she stepped into the room. The office was Sharon Weaver’s, one of the firm’s junior Partners. Most Partners had an associate or two share their office, just to make delegating grunt work that much easier when working on bigger contracts. That fact had surprised Catra when she’d joined - she’d been expecting corner offices, drinks cabinets and leather sofas to set the world to rights on, between easily-drafted contracts.

Law school and then her training contract had disabused her of that sitcom-level nonsense. Of course, she’d already been pretty jaded by the end of her law degree. She’d not exactly finished it how she wanted and she’d joined the firm absent a rather important aspect of her life.

_ Not important enough for some, clearly. _

Catra leaned back in her chair and felt her back crack, then she ran her hands through her slicked back hair. She’d gone through a few styles the past two years since she’d qualified into the firm. Four years since joining the training contract and graduating.

_ Four years since... _

She shook off the thought. Strange how those crept up on her. Clenched her heart and sunk into the pit of her gut.

She’d had her unkempt mass of frizzy curls back then, then pushed it into a swept back, hair-tied bundle. Now it was cut short, almost pixie level, and slicked back with only a bang to one side. It wasn’t quite what she liked, but paired with her neat, fitted slacks and tailored blazer and blouse, she rocked the  _ imposing lawyer _ combo.

Which in turn meant she was noticed. Which meant she was given more work. Which meant she was on track to promoting - Senior Associate, well ahead of her peers. She wouldn’t hit partner until she’d secured her own clients, got revenue, yeah. But, really, she was holding all of Weaver’s and had  _ stopped _ half of them bailing on the firm because the old wino had nearly screwed up several deals.

And old Hercule Hordak knew that, the crotchety bastard.

“So, you up for it?”   
  


“Huh? Sorry, zoned out Scorp… run it by me again?”

Scorpia sighed and cocked her head. She leaned to one side and placed an elbow on Catra’s desk - hers was against one wall, Weaver’s against the other behind her. The desk creaked under the woman’s weight. Scorpia was all muscle, something which surprised a few of the other members of their team - how  _ did _ she find the time for the gym?

Which, in truth, was another reason she hadn’t been promoted as fast - if she could give time to other hobbies, then she  _ clearly _ wasn’t as focused on the team.

The platinum haired lawyer clucked her tongue, “You’re distracted and zoning, Wildcat. You didn’t hear a word of what I said, hm?”

Catra sighed, but had the grace to nod, “No. Just… contracts are getting to me.”

“You’ve lost some of your  _ zing _ , Catra. Y’know, that one-two-punch thing you had, taking no prisoners, You need to take a break.”

Catra waved at her multiple screens, “I have to…”

“You don’t have to do  _ squat _ . We both know bossy britches is going to lay into you if you get them to her early… something about  _ rushing _ things. And she’ll throw a snit if you get them to her on time. AND a minute later. So, if you aren’t gonna win, why not go for the option that allows you to unwind,  _ then _ tackle it without, y’know, being sleep deprived and smelling of yesterday’s clothes, hmm?”

Catra stared at Scorpia. That was, perhaps, the most coherent, logical series of statements the woman had made since she’d known her, “uhhh. Sarah Caroline Orpilla, are you ok?”   
  


Scorpia winced again, “Ouch, the full name treatment. You are out of it. Look, I was talking to Emily, and, well… we were thinking of a night out. Tomorrow? Friday dinner and a show?”

The brunette rubbed her eyes, slightly relieved that Scorpia wasn’t trying to drag her away now - and also a  _ little _ bit disappointed, “Drinks sound good… wait, show?” her brain caught up and she frowned, “What, like a movie?”

Scorpia grinned widely, “OH! I got something  _ better _ ! You know that girl I’ve been seeing?”

“Penny? Parfum?”   
  


“Perfuma!”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, don’t judge.”

“I mean… you insist on Scorpia, I am not gonna go there.”

“Hey, it’s  _ cool _ . Plus, like… it’s been my name for so long…”

“Yeah yeah,” Catra smiled faintly, “I  _ know _ the boxing story.”

“Sting like a….”

“I KNOW, jeez. Alright,” Catra swatted the other woman and sighed. She was far less  _ catty _ these days. Actually getting  _ some _ validation and actual promotions had helped. Plus, making some honest to goodness  _ friends _ . She’d let her barriers down a bit the last year, after Scorpia’s consistent positivity.

It also helped she’d stopped fixating on a certain  _ someone _ as well. Or rather,  _ unhealthily _ fixating.

It still hurt, yeah. But time brought perspective. And, if she was really  _ really _ honest, a little bit of guilt.

And looking around the stacks of paperwork, the pending contracts, the to do lists and never ending inbox of emails, she wondered at her direction. She thought that she’d been  _ winning _ . Climb the ladder, get the office, get the paycheck and then…

Then.

Then?

Honestly her goal’d always involved something a little more. The law degree had been a means to an end, really. A goal, yeah, but not  _ the _ goal. But she’d never really vocalised the  _ real _ goal. At least not to the person she should have. But then, that final year it had all shifted. Graduation and one hell of a row. She’d said some pretty unpleasant things. But then again, she’d been left alone, to navigate all this by herself; to face the rigours of the business world without the one person she really  _ needed _ .

Scorpia was frowning at her again and Catra chuckled darkly, “Fuck, I am  _ done _ . Yeah… yeah, let’s do drinks. Sorry, what was this show?”

“Like  _ I SAID _ ,” sighed Scorpia, but she smiled as she did so, “Perfuma works for this club down near the bay. They do comedy, cabaret stuff.”

“What, like vintage songs? Crappy old dudes playing out some shitty routines and fat jokes?”

“You think I’d date a girl who worked for a place like that?”

“I mean… you do like pity cases,” Catra gestured at herself, a rare show of self-deprecation. Scorpia rolled her eyes and leaned forwards to nudge Catra. The gesture actually rolled the brunettes office chair back and she giggled involuntarily, “Asshole.”

“Don’t be mean…” Scorpia nodded slowly, “So, uh… Emily said she can drive us, that way we can stay out and not worry about the Metro.”

“Sounds good. How is the whizz kid?”

“Eh, Hordak has her upgrading servers but, hey, at least we have a better IT budget now!”   
  


“The creep’s crushing on her  _ hard _ .”

“It’s sweet,” but Scorpia winced, “Sort of? I mean she  _ is _ older than us. More his age range.”

“Wait, what? She is? I thought she was…” Catra gestured between the pair of them. Scorpia shook her head.

“Apparently not.”   
  


Catra sagged and shook her head, “My life is a lie. I should be  _ mad _ . Jeez. I need a coffee.”

“Ah, no. You need  _ bed _ . SLEEP. And not the crappy fold out ones they have in the break room. Go. Home.”

“Ugh, you are such a  _ nag _ . Penelope must have the patience of a saint.”

“Oh that she does,” a dopey smile crossed Scorpia’s face and Catra fake retched, “And don’t be mean Catra. It’ll happen for you. I mean, I know  _ Lonnie _ didn’t work out… soooo maybe, if you tried dating more than once, you could... find the right gal pal.”   
  


Catra’s look became withering, “Gal pal. Really?” she waved a hand, “And Lonnie was… eh it was a thing. Different wavelengths. Schedules. Life goals. Whatever.” 

The platinum blonde grinned, but held her hands up, “Ok, ok! So, yeah, anyway, the bar, it’s called Brightmoon. Perfuma does poetry readings there, so, y’know, gives you an idea of the vibe. I think they have like, dancing shows, but anyhoo, cheap bar, food, opportunity to shake your y’know…”

“Ass?”

“Yeah! Um. That.”

“I don’t think Perfuma wants you talking about my ass.”

“Uh…” Scorpia blushed, “I mean she knows we had an almost thing and she’s, like… fine with that, so, y’know.”

Catra leaned back and made a noise of disgust, “Scorpia, chill. Just…  _ chill _ . We’re cool, no need to get antsy.”

“Oh, good. Sorry. Yeah. ANYWAY, come on. Let’s walk out. Catch the Metro, get us on our way. It is, like, 930.”   
  


“Shit! I need to pick up food for Melog…” Catra cursed, then went through and saved her documents, then closed everything down. She’d learned the hard way about leaving her IT station unattended - with her screen settings all changed and the default language set as  _ Russian _ .

She packed away her laptop then pulled on her jacket and followed Scorpia to her own office, where she collected her own laptop, then they headed out. They parted three stops down and Catra meandered her way the short walk from the station to her apartment block.

Her place was nice; she had a fourth floor apartment in a gentrified part of town, nice setup  _ and _ a balcony. Admittedly she basically only saw the place for a couple of hours a day - between getting in and passing out after a quickly ordered takeaway, then waking up and getting ready for another intensive day. And weekends didn’t count as she spent most of them passed out or in the office anyway.

So what if her furnishings could be described, politely as  _ spartan _ . Or impolitely as  _ non-fucking-existent _ . She didn’t need much - a couch, a bed and bedside table, a fold out table in the kitchen.

It was minimalist. It suited her. It  _ served _ .

She wasn’t lonely, she was focused. She didn’t need things cluttering her space.

Yet as she stepped into her apartment and heard the door clack shut behind her, she wondered at the hollowness in those thoughts. And why the  _ hell _ was it all bubbling up now?

Melog’s purr pulled her from her thoughts and she bent down to scratch behind the little gray cat’s ears, “Hey monster. All good?” the purr intensified, “Tsch… it has been a shitty week. Maybe that’s why I’m all… mopey. Ugh. Never gonna make partner if I get  _ wimpy _ . Definitely just… need a blow out. Maybe… maybe yeah, find some… girl.”   
  


The thought still stuck in her craw a bit, but she sighed. She was just tired and her old memories were messing her about as usual. She moved into the kitchen and prepped Melog’s food, then fished out some cold pasta she’d  _ somehow _ managed to both prepare  _ and _ have enough for leftovers. She nuked it in the microwave and spent ten minutes just zoning on her sofa, before she staggered to the bedroom and stripped down to get into her sleep shorts and a ratty t-shirt.

It was only as she was drifting off that she realised it was one of  _ her _ old shirts, one she’d stolen from the dorms during laundry day. Must’ve been six years back.

It still had the name  _ Gray _ on the back.

The thought warmed her oddly as she drifted into a dreamless sleep.

\----------------------------

“Well, this place looks gay as  _ fuck _ .”

Scorpia snorted and glanced at her friend. Catra had a look of intense scepticism on her face, “Well, I mean…”

“I think they must have raided a whole warehouse for that many fucking pride flags. And… pastel? Really?  _ Really _ ? This place is so gay I’m approaching straightness from the other side. It’s trying so hard.”

Scorpia blinked, “Um.” The place was done up rather intensively. The ground floor was a bar, rainbow flags on poles and in the windows - it was fairly packed with a wide assortment of people - men and women just relaxing, being themselves. 

Catra cackled, “Relax Scorp, I got faith it’ll be less try-hard inside. But, wow… this place is  _ going for it _ .” Strangely, the unadulterated Over-The-Top clash of pastel paints, drapes and LGBT paraphernalia was weirdly endearing. And reassuring - this whole thing screamed  _ safe space _ .

“I think it’s aesthetically pleasing. If… a bit loud.” The third member of their trio shuffled forwards, then spun in her wheelchair. Emily Trapt - hardcore IT nut and terrifying tinkerer - had become a friend by complete accident. Catra had a habit of busting laptops in her early days. Apparently slamming your fists on them was  _ bad _ for them.

Emily had explained this several times, using slow sentences. It had almost gotten her scalded by coffee once, but luckily Scorpia had been assigned as Catra’s supervisor at the time and managed to explain that it  _ really _ wasn’t wise to antagonise the IT team.

Of course, Emily hadn’t got a malicious bone in her body. But she was a sensitive soul once she grasped an idea. It was probably why she hadn’t clocked Hordak’s stiff pining for her as he wandered the floors of the building, seeking out anyone with an IT issue in case she was about to happen past. She just thought he was a diligent boss.

It was kind of  _ sad _ really.

Catra glanced at the bar then at Emily, then up at Scorpia, “They got a ramp?”

Scorpia grinned, “Yep. Wouldn’t have suggested otherwise. And an elevator upstairs.”

“Why upstairs? Better seats?” Catra frowned at the throng in the bar, “I guess getting her to the bar in there is gonna be a hell of a battle.”

Except it wasn’t - the large woman on the door waved them in with a smirk. Her large frame and white ponytail caused a distant sense memory to flare in Catra’s mind, but the woman was  _ just _ different enough to not make her twitch. Inside the crowd parted and let Emily wheel herself through, Scorpia and Catra in her wake. The barman turned and leaned against the wooden top, then gave them a rakish wink.

He wore a bandana, a blue jacket and a very unbuttoned shirt, which made Catra cringe at the sheer amount of  _ Eighties Vibe _ the guy radiated. The Tom Sellick moustache really didn’t help either.

“AHOY! And welcome to Brightmoon! Is this your first  _ Adventure _ with us? Or would you like to start  _ simple _ ?”

Catra leaned back at the frankly  _ loud _ presentation. Emily just grinned up at the man and tilted her head, “Adventure?”

“Ah! It must be your first time!” his voice dropped to a more normal level and he rested his arms on the bar, “A drink, or are you here for the performances? My dearest is treading the boards this fine evening!”

“Oh?” Scorpia frowned and looked about, “Is there a programme? We want drinks, definitely, but can we go up now?”

“Of course! There’s a bar upstairs, my beau is there too. So, please, feel free to indulge here then mosey on up.”

Catra wasn’t quite keeping up with the conversation, but it had been a long ass day - as expected, Weaver had chewed her out for not staying to finish the work, despite it being due the following week. And she’d had a whole new load of contracts slapped her way. Of course, Weaver had bailed on the office at about 2 PM for a  _ networking lunch _ .

Which meant there really was no point trying to contact her unless you wanted slurred shouting.

So, Catra had managed to get out with the girls at about 7 and now here they were and she was  _ desperate _ for a drink. So she leaned on the bar and fixed the Eighties Throwback with a look that should have nailed him to the back of the bar.

“Gin, tonic, lime. A beer for the brick wall here and Em will have…” she glanced at the girl next to her, who seemed to be distracted by the noises around her. Catra sighed and gently tapped Emily’s chair, which drew the pigtailed woman’s attention, “Drink?”

“OH! Um… lemonade please!”

Catra turned a challenging look at the barman who just smiled and nodded, “We do a variety. Do you want it with fruit additives? Or spicier?”

“Oh, just lemon.”

“Excellent choice! Coming right up.”

The man was good, Catra had to begrudgingly admit - he had checked the beer Scorpia had wanted, then produced a  _ perfectly _ drawn pint, before spinning off, dicing a lime as if he were duelling it, then measured a precise blend of a good botanical (again, after clarifying  _ with _ Catra the brand she wanted… normally a bar just sloshed any old rotgut in a glass and sprayed a liberal amount of tonic on top) and then presented Emily with a chilled glass and large bottle of lemonade. It was some locally produced co-op brand, probably  _ ethical _ or something. 

Scorpia stared at the bottle and grinned, “That’s Perfuma’s!”

Emily glanced at the bottle, “Um. No. It’s mine.”

Catra bit her lip and shook her head. Scorpia smiled, “I know Em, but I mean… it’s made by Perfuma. Or her co-op. They supply a lot of the places round here with sourced produce and stuff.”

“Ah so she’s an eco warrior, huh?”

“Life coach, eco warrior, dancer. Got a lot of things covered,” Scorpia’s eyes twinkled.

“How’d you meet again?” Catra narrowed her eyes and took a sip of the G&T, then gasped - it was  _ sublime _ . GOOD gin. Scorpia led them away from the bar, to a patch of clear space to one side of the room, but was blushing.

“Um… here. Met her here. She was performing. She. Um. She sat in my lap.”

The blush was  _ something else _ . Catra’s eyes narrowed, “You said this was cabaret, right? This isn’t some front for a strip joint….?”

Scorpia smirked and waggled her hand, “Not stripping. Not  _ really _ .”

Catra sighed, “Then  _ what _ .”

“Um… well Perfuma was doing some… burlesque.”

“Wait, like In  _ Chicago _ .”

“What’s Burlesque?” frowned Emily, “Isn’t that a movie? I’m pretty sure it’s a movie.”

Catra nodded and pointed at the woman, “What she said.”

Scorpia sighed and shrugged, “Not quite sure it’s… um.. Cabaret but with a bit more skin?” her own cheeks were practically radiating heat.

“BABE! YOU CAME!”

The trio turned at the excited shriek and Scorpia moved like a woman in a daze. A willowy blonde practically  _ floated _ through the crowd, a sundress billowing about her to really sell the flower-child vibe. Her skin was tanned with that look that screamed  _ I work outside _ and her freckled face was split in an excited grin.

She practically barreled into Scorpia, who scooped her up and spun her about. Around them the other patrons whooped and cheered. Scorpia grinned like a dope and the blonde leaned down in her arms to peck her on the lips. Carefully, the larger woman set the willowy figure down and they turned back to the other two, “Wildcat, Em, this is Perfuma!”

Perfuma, for her part, smiled widely and extended a hand. Catra shook first and managed a surprised smile. Perfuma arched an eyebrow, “Wildcat?”

“Her nickname. Catrina, really. Catra to my friends.”

Perfuma seemed to frown briefly, as if recollecting something, but she was distracted by Emily, who leaned forwards and nodded with a grin of her own. With a sigh the blonde glanced at Scorpia, “I can stay for one, but I’m helping one of the acts tonight. Last minute, but can catch up after. I’m sorry!” she smiled over her shoulder as Sebastian slided past with a grin and a bottle for the willowy blonde.

When she turned back, she looked guiltily at Scorpia. But the big woman just smiled and clasped Perfuma’s hand, “Hey, this was kinda last minute, I know. And I knew you were  _ sorta _ working anyway, so no biggie. Are you ok to, y’know… stay over?”

The smile on Perfuma’s face returned full force and she leaned in, “Only if you’re ok with it?”

“M...more than. I’ve got the DVD picked out and popcorn bought.”

The blonde giggled and nodded, “Then it’s a date! Thank you for understanding, babe. I  _ will _ make it up to you.”   
  


“Hey… like I said, no biggie. You’re helping friends, right?”

“Yes! And I think you’ll enjoy it. She’s got a tendency to go big or go home. I keep telling her to slow down, buuuut, you know how it is with over achievers? Never take that moment to assess!”

Scorpia chuckled and shot Catra a meaningful glance, which got her a stuck out tongue in return. Emily sipped her lemonade and looked about, “Is there a venue upstairs? How big?”

“Oh, it’s a bit more intimate than this, about twenty tables. I made sure you have one reserved. Couldn’t get you close to the front today, but maybe next time?” her smile dazzled again, then she leaned over and pecked Scorpia on the cheek, “I hope to speak with you all properly later! Enjoy!”

And with that she floated off, up the stairs at the side of the bar to a door at the top. Catra looked at Scorpia, who was watching the woman with moon eyes, “Damn, you got it  _ bad _ .”

“Uh huh,” sighed Scorpia.

“And you’ve been dating her  _ how _ long now?”

“Two months, three weeks and six and a half days.”

Catra blinked, “Wow… super duper honeymoon mode then. You seem chipper in the mornings, she why?” her grin was sly and Scorpia went red again.

“We… we haven’t, y’know….”

Catra blinked, “What?”

“You haven’t consummated your relationship via the physical act of lovemaking?” interrupted Emily. Scorpia sputtered and sipped her beer, but then coughed as Emily continued, “Rumpy-pumpy? Made the beast with two backs? Fornicated? Am… am I using the right terms?”

Emily’s face was a mask of concern, but Catra saw the corner of the woman’s mouth twitch. Scorpia spluttered and Catra leaned her head back and  _ howled _ with laughter. Scorpia had been right - she had needed this, “Oh  _ man, _ you got punked by  _ Emily _ .”

The pigtailed woman chuckled, “I’m not  _ that _ dense Catra. And, well, you’re a fine one to talk? Not exactly pushing up the mean in this group are you?”

“Ouch, using data to  _ wound _ . Not sure if I preferred clueless Emily over sassy Emily,” Catra turned to Scorpia, “Anyway, you sealing the deal tonight then? DVD and all?”

“Uh… no.. um… we’re waiting. For the right time. I… I wanna take this slow.” Scorpia took a deep drink, then continued, “She’s the one, y’know?”

It was Catra’s turn to splutter, “The  _ fuck _ ?”

“Well… you know you get that moment, sometimes, when you see someone and… and you know? You know that’s it? No more? Like, that’s your life goals, your aspirations? It could be a place, a job, a person… she’s kinda  _ it _ .”   
  


“You sure her  _ dancing _ didn’t tip the scales?”

Scorpia made a tsking noise at Catra and shoved her gently, “Be nice! I taught you better than that. No more  _ bad friend _ vibes!”

“Sorry sorry!” Catra held her hands up, and her face slid into an expression of concern, “I… I just don’t want you getting burned.”

Scorpia shrugged, “Yeah. But what a way to go, right? Live life to the fullest, y’know?” She looked about to say something else, but shook her head and took another drink.   
  


“I’m dating Hordak.”

Both women spun to stare at Emily. The woman was staring at her lemonade and she looked up and gave a little shrug. Catra looked at Scorpia who smiled and held out a hand. Grumbling, Catra fished her purse out and slipped a twenty to Scorpia. The tall woman then turned to Emily and smiled widely, “That’s excellent. Is he, y’know… treating you ok?”

“Oh we aren’t fornicating, if that’s what you mean. But we date. We like building things. You know he goes to the Robot Wars?”

Catra looked at her drink, unsure if the barman  _ hadn’t _ slipped something in, “The whatnow?”

“The Robot Wars! It’s a club in town - you build robots out of RC Cars and power tools and then… fight. He’s really good!”

“Everyone’s gotta have a hobby I suppose,” mumbled Catra, “Hold up, where does he find the time?”

“He  _ is _ a Partner,” chided Scorpia, “I’m sure, like Weaver, he has a few  _ networking events _ that really aren’t.”

“Point to Scorpia…”

They settled into a gentle back and forth, Catra quizzing Scorpia over her slow burn romance and Emily’s rather chaste interaction with Hordak. But in the back of her mind, Catra’s head buzzed with Scorpia’s commentary:

_ You see someone and… and you know? You know that’s it?  _

She knew. And she knew it hadn’t been enough. Not for  _ her _ . She’d gone. She’d  _ left _ . And damn if it still didn’t sting. But the bile had gone. Because, if she was honest, if she  _ really dug down _ and faced it…

She hadn’t exactly spelled things out, now, had she? She’d been out, partying, flirting, lived the life of college.

And  _ she _ had gone along with it. But because  _ she _ hadn’t said anything, neither had Catra. So maybe it had been just friendship. And yet for Catra it had been  _ more _ . So much more, that when the fact that  _ she _ had confessed  _ she _ wasn’t graduating, that she had dropped out, Catra had been less than diplomatic.

You didn’t blow up that much to just a friend, did you?

So Catra knew exactly what Scorpia meant. And she was  _ happy _ that for Scorpia it was mirrored at least.

She sank her G&T, then gestured to the others, “So, are we gonna watch some asshole make shitty jokes or what?”

\---------------

The upstairs was  _ plush, _ Catra had to admit. Still all pastels and gentle drapes  _ everywhere _ , but the lighting was lower and the tables were intimate. It reminded her of a jazz club, except the stage was larger, much larger. A bar sat at the far end of the room, smaller than the one downstairs, but people were already crowded round. Scorpia waved at Catra, “My round, same again?”

“Hell to the yeah.” Catra was feeling more relaxed - her tiredness and the double G&T were comboing her a bit, so she added, “But.. a water as well. Don’t want my Saturday completely screwed, y’know.”

“Oh ho! The pupil  _ learns.  _ I am… so proud.” Scorpia hugged Catra, who squeaked at the sudden assault, then coughed as the larger woman bustled over to the bar. She shook her head, then turned to Emily and led her to their table. Perfuma had texted Scorpia with the booking details and she’d shared it with them. It was in the middle of the group, with a small low-light lamp on it which could be switched between colours - likely to summon the bar staff so people weren’t constantly moving back and forth between tables and the bar during the show.

A few moments later Scorpia returned, whilst more patrons trundled in and took their seats. The big woman set the glasses down and huffed, “That guy is  _ good _ . He knew my order! That Sebastian must’ve told him already. The service here is… wow. Guess knowing staff helps,” she nudged Catra and winked with far too much effort.

Catra rolled her eyes, “You’ve done no  _ knowing _ yet, Scorp. Seal the deal, then we can talk about  _ perks _ .”

“You need to get laid,” said Emily in a deadpan voice. The other two stared  _ again _ , then broke into fits of giggles. Emily blinked, “What, it’s true. It relieves stress and you are stressed. And when you’re stressed you get  _ snippy _ .”

“Who says  _ snippy _ ? I am not a ‘50’s sitcom wife…”

The house lights began to dim and conversation hushed. Catra leaned back in her seat and sighed. It was a comfy leather thing and felt outright  _ decadent _ . Even if it was dyed pink. A voice rolled out of the darkness, sibilant and seductive.

“Ladies, gents, they, them, whores, heirs, harlots, jezabels, sinners, saints… it is I, your MC of MCs, god among  _ all of the above _ , lover, hater, never a fighter…. Unless you swing that way baybeeee. To steal a friends from our friends in the pacific: Prepare for Trouble and make it  _ Double _ .”   
  


Spotlights lit up the stage and a figure  _ strutted forth _ from the back. Eyes done up with green mascara, lips a faint rouge, and dolled up in a skin-tight body suit that looked like some unholy marriage between a  _ Drag Race _ entry and something out of  _ Mad Max,  _ the drag queen dripped theatre and sex. They cocked their hip and tossed long blonde hair behind their shoulder, along with the end of a bright green feather boa. Catra arched an eyebrow and glanced at Scorpia, who grinned back at her. Emily watched, absolutely entranced - the quiet compared to downstairs was obviously helping her a little.

“New faces, old faces, we have some rules! I know, rules are meant to be broken… buuuut I am a big fan of  _ consent _ . And I don’t want to have to get  _ handsy _ with anyone with bad ideas, capisce? Alright, no heckling. Heckle and we will comment on your parentage and proficiency sexually. We do low blows too. Also, Tara downstairs will launch you across the street. Her record is eight metres so far, so if you’re interested in breaking a record,  _ have a go kiddies _ .”   
  


A smatter of laughter rippled around the room and even Catra cracked a smile, “They’re… good.”

Scorpia nodded and the MC continued, “Also, y’know… heckling just  _ harshes the vibe _ for everyone, y’know? Second rule! No touchy! Unless  _ invited _ . Should go without saying. We cannot be held responsible for  _ accidents _ to your personage. And whimpering afterwards does not help. Our main act tonight is very  _ very down on that sort of thing _ .”

Another smirk touched Catra’s lips, “Well… they sound like a hardass.”

“Third rule… this is a bar, but keep chatter down, please! Cheer, revel, but… no one wants to hear about football scores or your fantasy league while we have honest to god  _ art _ up here. Table service is go, so just sit back, relax and enjoy… you’ll get more of  _ me _ later, babies. I won’t bite too hard. But first - she’s here with a mystery to solve and the answer is  _ rhythm _ . From the pages of Sam Spade and the wilds of India I give you… Mer _ miiiissstaaaaaaa _ .”

Double Trouble twirled their way off the stage and the lights went down again, only to flash up to resemble something akin to a  _ street scene _ . The backdrop of the stage looked like a city skyline. Then a figure stepped out of the wings. She had a waistcoat on, a fedora, suit slacks and a green shirt with sleeves rolled up.

Her shoes clacked on the stage and she kept her head down, fedora tipped. She paused at the front of the stage, then began to tap her toe.  _ Clack. Clack. Clack _ .

Catra sipped her drink and frowned. Tap dance?

The woman tapped out a rhythm that was faintly familiar. Music began to flow in, simple strings - a cello? Then it clicked. A slowed down rendition of  _ Smooth Criminal _ .

Slowly they tempo sped up and the woman’s moves matched. She only moved her arms to twitch her fedora slightly. Then she began to roll her hips and jerk them in time to the music. Her feet became a blur and then she spun, thumbs in the loops of her slacks. She froze and gyrated her hips forwards, then tapped over to the edge of the stage where she leaned against the wall and touched the brim of the fedora. There was a pause, then she burst into motion and forward flipped onto her hands, then her feet, then her hands again, each  _ clack _ of her shoes in time with the beat. Her fedora didn’t fall. She landed after three forward flips, then tapped out more of the song, paused.

And then tore her slacks off to reveal black stockings and garters. The waistcoat  _ wasn’t  _ one - it was a basque with matching lacy boyshorts. A wolf whistle came from the back of the room along with a cheer. Catra frowned at the clearly  _ male _ voice and turned to glower (Even though it wouldn’t be seen) and blinked.

At the bar was Sebastian, from downstairs. He was fist pumping the air with one hand, whilst his other arm was draped around the shoulder of the other barman, who had his head on Sebastian’s shoulder. The other man was a little shorter and black, with almost buzz-cut hair and a crop-top shirt.

And she  _ knew _ him.

Beaumont. Beaumont Archer. She’d known him in college, he’d been more  _ her _ friend than Catra’s, but a nice enough guy. She’d even liked his sort-of-maybe-can’t-spit-it-out girlfriend. Then she watched as Beau reached up to cup Sebastian’s chin and tilt the man’s face around to plant a kiss on his lips.

Catra’s jaw nearly unhinged. She’d known he was bi but this was… this was  _ new _ .

On stage, the girl finished up with a fantastic clatter and a backflip on the final note, then bowed and pulled off her fedora, revealing a indian girl with a smirking face. She blew a kiss at the audience, then strutted off the stage and moved to the bar. She hopped up and tapped the barman on the shoulder, interrupting his kiss with Beau. Sebastian turned, grinned then reached up and pulled her down for a deep kiss.

Catra’s jaw really should have fallen off. She was expecting sparks, maybe a slap. Instead Beau held up a hand and Mermista slapped it in a high five. Catra shook her head and sunk down in her chair.

Part of her mind wondered if Beau was still in touch with  _ her _ . She didn’t keep in touch with any of the college crew - she’d burned that bridge pretty substantially, blocked them  _ all _ on social media. She’d felt they’d stolen  _ her _ away, convinced  _ her _ of a different path. Robbed  _ her _ of ambition.

So, running into Beau was going to be awkward as  _ hell _ . She sipped her G&T and hoped she wouldn’t be recognised in the low light. If  _ he _ was the barman that meant he’d be doing table service, wouldn’t it?

_ Shit _ .

The MC returned and gave a round of applause to Mermista, who was still necking off with Sebastian. Double Trouble just sighed, “I would warn them that sparks like that are a  _ fire hazard _ , but what can I say, who doesn’t like to live dangerously? Just keep it  _ relatively _ below an adults only rating, m’kay? People are  _ drinking _ over here. RiIght, bitches and butches and babies, who wants some acoustics?”

The next act was tamer: a slow relaxing guitar solo and haunting song by a pair of women, Natalie and Ella. It spoke of love and finding togetherness, strength together. Being strong and being brave. Catra felt something in her twinge and a lump formed in her throat. She enjoyed the song, but part of her felt grumpy - she’d come here to get tipsy and enjoy some  _ art _ or whatever.

Not get  _ emotional _ . Or  _ remember _ .

DT returned and goaded the crowd with more ribald humour and some low-brown jokes. Roasted some audience members as well, but gently. The next few acts were musical mainly - one girl did a piece of slam poetry that rattled off as she raged and reeled them all in. Another was a jazz solo by a saxophonist, followed by the beat poet again, this time doing some more eroitc poetry - all suggesting an innuendo, but she acted along with it with a wink. As she bowed off, the MC came out and did another few minutes, then paused and smirked at the audience.

“All right… enough foreplay. We warmed you up, let you cool off, got you all flustered…. Just like  _ any _ good session needs to be. But now because I’m a good person  _ and _ you’ve all been  _ so well behaved _ , it’s time for the main event. You know her, you love her… by day she gets the ladies sweating and swearing, by night… same deal. And she’s here to service some live wires for you tonight! I give you….  _ Shira!” _

The lights went out and Catra blinked. Then the floodlight came on and highlighted a figure at the back of the stage. Her back was to the audience but she had a set of what looked like coveralls on, tied at the waist, with a high-vis jacket on top. Her head had a hard hat on.

Music started up, piano and a slight jazz buzz and Catra realised it was a version of  _ Addicted to love _ .

The woman rolled her shoulders and Catra swallowed as the jacket slipped down to reveal pale skin. A small churn began in her stomach as she watched. The tall figure started to walk slowly backwards, her shoulders jutting up and down, her hips hitching side to side in time with the smooth version of the song. She turned, but kept her head down, the hard hat obscuring her features. Catra had the impression of a ponytail whipping around as the woman spun and the tingle in her gut intensified.

The front of the jacket was undone, showing that the coveralls were indeed tied at the waist. The woman had a wife beater shirt on under the high-vis jacket, but Catra could tell the woman was  _ toned _ from the way her movements jerked and halted in time with the music. It wasn’t awkward, it was controlled, purposeful, to the point that Catra wondered if the woman stopped her gyrations that the music might stop; if she slowed, that the music might echo her.

The woman’s head lifted a touch and Catra caught the glimpse of a smirk and her stomach did another little jolt. There was  _ something _ about the jaw, the face…

With a twirl and a stamp, the jacket spun off to the side revealing the shirt as it  _ clung _ to the woman. Her arms flexed as she danced, undulating and strutting across the stage, shoulders rolling. And still, her head was down. A few people were whistling as the woman thrust her hips forward and slid a hand up her leg to grasp the bottom of the white shirt. The woman lifted it slightly and pulled the cloth away as the jazzy beat thrummed along. Catra felt herself lean forwards, Emily and Scorpia forgotten.

She drank in the sight of the top of the defined V of the woman’s hip, along with the abs. Then the woman spun again and rolled those perfect shoulders, her back flexing like the ripples on a lake.

_ Just to be clear, I am very gay. And If I was not, I would be now.  _ Catra’s brain supplied for her. It was helpful like that.

The woman’s hands moved in front of her, blocked by the audience, then came apart, holding the sleeves of the coveralls, now untied. She pulled them to the sides and rolled her hips again, then crossed her arms and turned, holding the coverall up over herself. Behind her another pair of women came on stage.

Catra recognised Perfuma, clad in a more modest version of the coveralls and with a matching hardhat. The other woman was shorter, also in matching attire. With the lights, Catra couldn't quite make her out. Between them they carried a thick pole, similar to a stripper pole but slightly more robust. The apir set to work upending it and bolting it to the floor, while the muscular figure gyrated and slowly sank down into what looked like a limbo pose.

Which she then held, arms outstretched.

And then she raised a leg and swept it out, so she was balanced on one bent leg, her back parallel to the ground. With a graceful, dancer-like motion, she brought her leg back, bowed and rolled the coverall sleeves up in front of her.

And then she tore the damn thing in two with a single rip.

Both pieces of the garment flew away, whilst behind her the two women melted into the darkness of the stage rear. Catra had a fleeting glimpse of  _ pastel hair _ which sent another strange recollection through her, similar to her shock at seeing Beau, but the G&T (which had apparently been replaced with another full one… she hadn’t even  _ seen _ the barman…) was dulling her responses it seemed.

The woman, who Catra now realised was  _ blonde _ , stood on the stage in what looked like light grey torn tights that went up to mid thigh. Suspenders connected them to a gold belt that ran just above the woman’s navel and her modesty was  _ just about _ preserved by a high-waisted set of things that could  _ only just _ be called boyshorts, which looked to be denim coloured. It sold a sort of daisy-dukes meets construction worker vibe.

The woman walked backwards until her back met the pole and she sank down it and spread her legs briefly. Then she rolled and swept her legs around, so she sprawled against the pole , her whole body facing the audience. She then began to drag herself up the pole, pulling her body up. She dragged herself to her feet, not using her legs. And then she continued up the pole, arms straining. Halfway up she straightened her body again, parallel to the ground, then dipped and hooked her leg around the pole so that she spun, held there only by the grip of her bent leg.

As she slowed to a halt, she leaned backwards and stretched her arms to the floor, still a good two or three feet below her finger tips. Then she raised again, midriff hard and held herself out straight. All this in time to the jazzy pulse of the music, like some roaring twenties version of that hetero-Pepsi ad.

Shira then pulled herself up until she was flush with the pole and rolled herself against it, as if  _ humping _ the damn thing. Then she vibrated, like she was being shocked and fell backwards again. This time she gripped the pole below her and unhooked her legs, then slowly brought her legs down, opening them up to flash the audience a decadent glimpse of between her covered thighs. She paused halfway down, then angled her hips so everyone could see her glutes and  _ gorgeous ass _ flex.

Then she fucking  _ twerked _ .

While holding herself  _ out from a pole _ .

Catra snorted a giggle at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

The blonde head glanced over her shoulder and Catra felt her stomach gurgle with anticipation again. She hadn’t seen the whole face once more, but her mind was ringing a bell. Sadly, she was too distracted to answer.

The blonde lowered herself again and Catra heard Scorpia mutter something about  _ core strength _ and  _ daaaaaamn _ . Emily was staring with a frown that implied she was running calculations rather than ogling.

The woman’s booted feet touched the stage and she jiggled that ass again. Catra wanted to rush the stage to bite the damn thing. Which, in itself, was a thought strong enough to nearly knock herself back to sobriety. She gasped as it struck her and quickly took another deep glug of her G&T - which was possibly not the wisest long term plan.

The woman turned and rolled her hips again, whilst running her hands across her torso and neck. She flung her head back and reached up, then tossed the hardhat away. It didn’t clatter as someone offstage caught it.

Shira’s hands went back to her torso and she pulled the shirt up again revealing her abdominals and that cut V all over again. Catra squirmed and rubbed her legs together.

She’d been to strip clubs before, begrudgingly. But they all felt too glittery, too cheap. This… this felt  _ sensual _ . But also a bit silly - not self conscious though, unafraid to be a bit ridiculous. Like foreplay. Around her the room was silent. Shira froze, then rolled her torso again and ripped the wife beater in two.

The audience sighed as the woman bared herself. Or rather, revealed the large X’s of electrical tape across the woman’s nipples. Her chest was still damn impressive.

She spun again, face still hidden as she dipped her head behind a blonde fringe from her now-vanished ponytail (Clearly gone from when she’d removed the hardhat). She planted her feet at the base of the pole, then leaned back and twirled about it, hair whipping out like a fan. As she spun, she lifted her feet. Catra watched as the woman sank down until she was flat on the floor and her spin halted with the crown of her head facing the audience.

And just as the song hit its final beat she rolled over and planted her chin on laced fingers, elbows on the stage, then blew a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes and smirked out at the audience.

Catra went absolutely still as the audience erupted into whoops and applause. She tried to sink lower in her seat.

Blue eyes stared out at the audience. And that grin.

Catra knew that grin. Knew it so well it hurt. It had brightened her day, chased all heartaches and fears away.

_ Her _ .

_ Adora. _

_ \-------------------------------------- _

The night was a blur from then on. Catra watched as Adora’s gaze traced across the audience, the glee in her face evident. For a moment those eyes had hit hers and Adora’s face shifted briefly to shock, but Catra had ducked and looked away. When she glanced back, Adora seemed to have dismissed their  _ very brief _ reconnection.

Which in itself felt altogether too much for Catra.

She watched as Adora stood, completely unselfconscious despite her near nudity, and bowed to the audience. She even did a little shimmy with a wicked grin, then skipped off the stage, only to pause at the edge to cock her hip and wink over her shoulder at the crowd. Then she vanished.

Scorpia was shaking her head, “Wow, that girl has skills! Ain’t that right Wildcat, I mean I saw you drooling and… hey, you ok?”

Catra stared at the stage and her jaw flexed, “I… I neeed.. Home. Go home. Now.”   
  


“Aw dang, you drank too much? I’m sorry, Wildcat, I should’ve stopped at the third, I know.”

“Yeah… yeah. Just woozy. Don’t uh… don’t wanna be…”

“Say no more. I’ll call an Uber.”

“No, I got it.”

As Catra stood she saw Emily staring at her. The pigtailed girl pursed her lips and glanced at the stage, then back at Catra, “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Er, no.. why?”

“You seem vulnerable and maybe require someone to confide in?” The woman smiled up at Catra from her wheelchair, which she slowly turned to face Catra head on, “If you need to, I mean?”

The brunette stared into Emily’s eyes and saw genuine concern there. She bit back her denial, her knee jerk retort and swallowed, then shook her head, “S’fine. Long week. Bad week. Too much to drink, y’know?”

Emily nodded slowly, “Of course. The initial data  _ would _ support that. Just if there was anything else… maybe we can help?”

“I said I’m fiiiine, just… enjoy, ok Em? Just have fun. I’m beat, this was fun, all fun. Need to go before, y’know, the night stops being fun…”

Catra nodded, then did what she always did with personal situations.

She fled.

\-----------------

Back at her apartment she texted Scorpia to let her know she was safe. Honestly, she didn’t remember the journey. Her mind was full of  _ Adora Adora Adora _ .

Adora, who had been on track to get a training contract with a major law firm. Adora, who had  _ nailed _ her courses. Adora, who had been a model student.

Adora, who was apparently a  _ stripper. _

Catra from four years ago might’ve gloated at that, sneered at such a base profession, such a degrading job.

Except Adora had looked vibrant and alive. She had held  _ everyone’s _ attention in that room, Catra’s especially. She had played them all like instruments with every flex and gyration. And that expression - Catra could barely remember seeing her that vibrant.

Certainly not that often during their last year, as they headed towards graduation. Hell, Adora had looked miserable. Catra had thought it was just pre-exam stress. But… perhaps not?

She flopped onto the couch and stared around her bland apartment. She shivered, the sudden emptiness of the place compared to the warmth and life of the bar a strange and unwelcome contrast.

Her phone chimed and she read Scorpia’s message.

_ Glad u r ok WC! Perfuma wanted to intro us to her friend but she had work apparently! Next time she says. Stay safe, c u monday, or u want coffee on Sunday? _

Catra managed a smile and sighed, then replied.

_ Enjoy your time with P. Seal. The. Deal!! She clearly wants u. See u monday. Gonna catch up on sleep. _

Melog chose that moment to jump into her lap. They started kneading against her legs and she sighed as the cat began to purr. The sound relaxed the tension in her muscles and she leaned back into the couch. Her throat wobbled and a sob bubbled out. Her eyes flew open and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Then another sob wracked her body.

Catra hunched over and Melog curled up into her lap, their purrs loud and reassuring.

“Why… why am… WHY?” Catra hissed out a breath.  _ She _ left, so why did Catra feel so distraught?

Was she jealous? Angry that Adora hadn’t crashed and burned? That she seemed  _ fine _ without Catra?

She snarled, and stood, which sent Melog off with a protesting yowl. She stalked to her bedroom and fished out her personal laptop from a drawer, then hauled up her old Social Media profiles. She barely used them these days, except maybe to post the odd selfie with Scorp and Em on nights out. But that was still few and far between.

She trawled through and tried to find Adora’s old account, except it was now private. Since she’d  _ blocked _ Adora that’d severed their friend connection. To see the account she’d need to  _ re-add _ Adora. She sighed, then tried to see her other college acquaintances’ profiles.

Beau’s was also private - another block and re-add issue.

Gloria…. Gloria Miller Moon. Pastel hair and indignation in one short, angry package. Catra grinned as she brought up the pastel haired monster’s page.

But Catra found that  _ she _ was the one blocked.

Clearly there had been some  _ mutual _ rage.

She gritted her teeth and tried the bar’s website instead. She gave a little chuckle of triumph as she saw a  _ cast members _ page and  _ links _ . There was a demo reel showcasing the bar’s attractions. Jugglers,  _ fire eaters _ , magicians.

And then a clip of Adora.

Catra stared as the woman strutted across the stage, feathers held around her to obscure her body - she was part of a group this time, almost a can-can cabaret thing as they moved alongside each other, keeping each other hidden before a final reveal. Catra recognised Mermista and Perfuma in the group.

Another video showed  _ GLIMMER, _ as she was called. But it was clearly Gloria in a bowler hat and a basque, dancing and strutting about a chair with a vintage soundtrack. Catra had to hand it to the girl - she could move. Not as graceful as Adora, but she realised Burlesque wasn’t about the  _ strip _ , but the  _ act _ . The slight comedy and self-awareness of it, whilst also being a very positive and affirmative thing.

She scrolled to the cast page and found a picture of Adora… or rather Shira. She had a white cloak around her with a gold tiara on in the profile pic. Catra clicked on it.

_ Shira is one of our regular guest performers, usually appearing weekly on a Friday evening. _

_ A qualified fitness instructor, accredited Pole Dancing instructor, Shira also has a number of sports science and physio qualifications under her belt! Shira also teaches fitness classes and runs her own successful business in the downtown area…. _

Catra sat back and blinked. Adora had had a  _ lot _ of extra modules at college - more classes, stuff to keep her in on her sport. Was that what she was doing? A parallel course? Or had she done this in the last four years? It made sense. Adora had always been physical - sitting in class and doing research on tomes of legal precedence had been clearly frustrating for the woman.

Her thoughts drifted to Scorpia - held back by her apparent willingness to have a focus  _ other _ than the legal profession. How would Adora have fared in there?

_ She still left! Without a word! She didn’t say anything _ .

But another part of Catra’s brain made a mental  _ ehhhhh _ gesture.

_ She did. But you screamed at her. Blocked her. Ignored her. _

Catra blinked away the thoughts and found a link to Adora’s business. She worked out of a major gym in the downtown area but seemed to offer private and group classes. Pole dancing lessons, but also dance-fitness and other more gruelling looking exercises. She even had a Youtube channel.

“Well, let’s see what all the fuss is about,” grumbled Catra.

Adora had no right looking that good in a grey sports bra and leggings. Unsurprisingly, comments on ALL the videos were turned off. Her content stretched back three years - starting with amateur looking “guide” videos, then full on instruction videos. She seemed to have a small but dedicated following - most of the videos had several thousand views, but nothing crazy.

Of course the goofier videos were a bit more popular, but those seemed rare.

In each video, Adora seemed focused, intensive, professional. But her more relaxed ones, she seemed to have a bit of vulnerability. Catra sat and watched one, a lump in her throat as she listened to a voice she hadn’t heard in four years. Adora laughed, sighed about  _ ducks being evil _ as she jogged through a park, phone held at an awkward selfie angle. Then she cursed as the phone fell and Catra got a good look at her flushed face, lower lip held under teeth pensively and a relaxed  _ Phew… not too bad! _

A few hours later she jolted awake, still clothed, on her bed, her laptop beside her. It was paused halfway through Adora’s  _ stupidly large _ playlist of intensive videos.  __ Catra groaned and pressed resume automatically on the video, her half awake brain not quite processing things. The video returned to Adora talking about  _ dedication _ and  _ keeping focus _ . Then she tripped and fell over a crack in the paving.

She laughed and wiped her eyes as she watched the goofball. On the screen Adora cursed, then hauled up the phone and gave it a rueful look.

“Catra would’ve had a field day with that one.” On the screen the blonde winced and her eyes became tight, then she shrugged, “Well, yeah… guess I better upload this in case then. Can’t have my forehead getting any bigger, y’know? Gotta learn from mistakes. And we don’t learn if we hide them!”

The brunette choked slightly and stared. She rewound the video, dragged her mouse pointer with a shaking finger. “Catra would’ve had a field day with that one.”

Again, “Catra would’ve had…”   
  


Again, “Catra would’ve…”   
  


Again. “Catra.”

Again, “Catra.”

She sat back against the pillows and tilted her head with a frown.

_ The fuck _ ?

She tried another fun video. This one  _ also _ mentioned her. But about diligence, sticking to your guns. Following through. Adora gave a small shrug at that, “Sometimes you want to give up… but make sure you give up for the  _ right _ reasons. It’s fine to quit something that hurts… but make sure you know  _ why _ . Tell people. Can’t do squats because you’ve torn a muscle? TELL SOMEONE! Heck, this isn’t just fitness.” the blonde looked to one side, “Catra was all about that. And it’s something I hold to. Or try to.”

Catra  _ had _ . Yes. Well. To a point. But it was more she expected others to just  _ tell her shit _ . She hadn’t exactly been great at it herself if she was honest. She bit her lip and tried another. This one had Adora on some swings.

“Goals. Very important. My friend Catra used… used to say that without goals life is just a scrawl. You need to set that end point. See your goal, where you want to be. What you want. And… and sometimes you may need to adjust that. Realise that some of those goals aren’t realistic. So you adjust… and reassess. Not saying don’t  _ try _ . But try and learn to adjust those goals. Aim for the moon, but maybe accept that hitting the top of the mountain is enough, y’know?”

And  _ again _ sad eyes. Adora smiled at the camera and Catra saw the happiness tinged with tightness around the blue blue eyes.

She was missing something here. Beyond Adora remembering her. There was a rawness to these blooper videos. But she felt too frazzled to really think about it. She glanced at the corner of the screen and groaned when she realised it said  _ 4:30 _ . With a huff she shut the laptop and managed to strip off her clothes. She didn’t hang them up, just dumped them on the floor and crawled under the covers. She grumbled and tossed about for a bit, then settled. Sleep took her and she floated in the dreamless void of someone utterly drained.

\----------------

The weekend passed in a bit of a fugue state - Catra coasted, her mind distracted by this sudden re-emergence of her past. Saturday was a write off as she slept until mid afternoon and then was fairly non functional beyond managing to order food in. She ate listlessly, fed Melog, then crawled back into bed and passed out.

Sunday was a little better and she managed to haul herself out to meet Scorpia for coffee.

“Wow, Wildcat… um, you look… uhhh..”

“Spit it out, Scorp.”   
  


“Like you got hit in the face? Your eyes are a bit, uhhh… puffy?”

“Yeah, uh… bad sleep.”

Catra wasn’t quite comfortable telling Scorpia much, because this wasn’t JUST coffee with Scorpia. It was, apparently, coffee with Scorpia  _ and _ Perfuma. The pair sat opposite her in a booth and seemed joined at the shoulder. Perfuma frowned at her then smiled slightly, “If you want me to go, I can….?”

Catra looked at the table, then shook her head, “Nah it’s… it’s fine. I guess I didn’t get a chance to talk on Friday, y’know?” she wanted to be prickly, to feel that her time with her best friend had been invaded - but the absolute gaze of devotion on Scorpia’s face made such objections feel petty, “How… how was the rest of the night?”

“Oh  _ wonderful _ . Emily is a dear and… well, so funny! And Mermista was able to join us for a drink or two with Sebastian. Beau had to go sadly… it’s his date night with Gloria on Fridays.”

Catra froze, hand halfway to her coffee and stared at the woman, “Wait… I saw him… I think it was him… kissing the barman?”

“Oh, did you meet Beau earlier?” asked Perfuma with a smile. Scorpia gave Catra a strange look.

“Nah, I went to the bar. Did you…”

“Well, uh, Sebastian said his  _ Beau _ was up in the other bar… so, y’know, tired brain link I guess. Or am I wrong?”

Scorpia’s faint frown turned into a grin, “Wow! Well spotted! Heck, I didn’t make that connection!”

Perfuma squeezed Scorpia’s hand and nodded at Catra, “They have a complicated arrangement. Not really my business or place to expand on it, but Bow is dating Seahawk  _ and _ Glimmer. Seahawk is dating Mermista  _ and _ Beau.”

“And her name is  _ actually _ Mermista?” deadpanned Catra. Perfuma chuckled, an airy, relaxed sound.

“Well, no. But she insists on us all using her stage name. Says it gives her an air of  _ mystery _ . Though I can never quite tell if she’s being sarcastic…”

Catra snorted, “Huh. Wow. So… poly stuff? That’s um, cool,” she smiled, “Just not something I’ve ever really, y’know, dealt with…”

“Well, there is Lonnie,” mused Scorpia and Catra whipped her head up.

“What?”

“Oh, uh… you didn’t know?”

“What? Wait  _ what _ ?”

“Oh, she’s dating Kyle. And Rogelio.”

“Rogelio? The accounts guy?”

“Yep.”   
  


“The guy with the skinhead?”

“Uh huh.”

“Who could bench press a car? THAT guy?”

“That guy.”

“Who we all saw kissing Kyle at the office, what, three months back?”

“Uh huh.. Apparently it works really well. They’re saving a bunch on rent.”

“Wait.. .when did they all… when did this happen?”

“Oh well after you, I think. Lonnie kinda… well I don’t know the  _ how _ , but yeah, this year, not last year.”   
  


Catra sighed and rolled her shoulders. Perfuma cocked her head and bit her lip, “Catra, I know we’ve only just met and you don’t know me from, well, anything… but I can see something is bothering you. Would it help if you maybe.. .spoke about it?” Catra shot her a look that wasn’t quite a glare, but came damn close. Perfuma didn’t flinch, “I don’t mean specifics. But perhaps talking around the problem to an audience could help? You seem more tense than you were on Friday.”

The brunette eyed the blonde and then sagged back, “It’s just… some ancient history. Got a reminder on Friday of some stuff. And well… it’s just personal stuff. I have work to focus on and I don’t  _ need _ this shit.”

Perfuma nodded slowly, “Unresolved issues and a lack of closure can really impact us, until we work out how to let go. Sometimes closure is… not possible. But coming to terms can be. It’s not always easy I know.”

Catra had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at the cereal-box level philosophy, “Uh huh.”

Perfuma smiled, “I work as a therapist during the day. Meditation, you know. I imagine being a lawyer… you don’t get a lot of down time to process stuff?”

Scorpia nodded at that, “It’s a never ending flow. I mean, right now, we’re lucky we have been called back in. Sometimes… sometimes I wonder about it all.”

Catra stared at the other woman and was about to fire a rebuke at her, but instead her mouth said “Why?”

Scorpia shrugged, “I mean… I was  _ lucky _ to find Perfuma. But before I met her, I was on autopilot, y’know? Just… answering emails, churning. I got up, got my bagel, got in… rinse, repeat.”   
  


The brunette chewed her lip and huffed, “We hang out! I mean, we do stuff. Coffees, catch ups… y’know, venting about Weaver!” Even as she said it, it sounded a little trite.

Across the table, Scorpia lifted her mug and took a sip. She sighed happily, “Yeah. But that’s, what? 1% of the time? Wildcat, you are awesome, but… I don’t want to look back at the last ten years and wonder  _ what if _ .”   
  


“But that’s the plan, isn’t it? Blitz now… and set up the  _ future _ .”

Perfuma nodded, “Catra makes a good point. Laying foundations.” Catra stared at the blonde, surprised at the support. Scorpia shot the other blonde a grin.

“And I counter with  _ how do you lay foundations _ if all you’re doing is buying the cement?”

That made the brunette frown - she hadn’t had nearly enough coffee for  _ metaphors _ , “Uh… what?” She dragged a hand down her face and stared at the platinum blonde. Scorpia chuckled.

“I mean, I spend all that time working, but I’m not  _ out here _ , getting experiences, meeting people. I hit, what, forty, fifty and I think ‘Ok! Retirement! - except I haven’t spent time finding a partner. Or having kids. Or travelling to see where I want to set my roots. I MIGHT have a good bank balance, but I’m gonna be as boring as anything. And the job wants ALL of you ALL the time.”

Catra sank back in her chair and mulled that over, “I guess… but, y’know we can make time. Find a balance.”

Scorpia nodded, “I have… but look at me, that’s as far as I go, unless I get lucky. And I don’t know if I want to  _ be _ a partner. Worrying about profit margin? No THANK you. I want to go  _ antiquing _ on weekends. Have a beer. Maybe some, um… Netflix and chill?”

Catra glanced up and grinned, “So, seal the deal?”

Perfuma blushed, then grinned broadly, “I convinced her it was due time. So thank you for prodding her a little. Scorpia is a little self conscious!”

“Who knew?” chuckled Catra, then reached over the table to pat Scorpia’s hand, “Well done, ya nervous lug.”

The big woman sighed and rolled her eyes, “I clearly took one for the team…” she mocked with a grin. Perfuma smiled widely and winked.

“She  _ really _ did!” Scorpia flushed and Catra coughed as Perfuma measured out a size between her hands. Catra hacked a laugh and tried to catch her breath as she sagged in her chair.

“Oh… oh God, Scorp.. She’s amazing, KEEP HER.”

Scorpia flushed, but smiled at Perfuma, “You didn’t have to tell her.”

“With an opener like that, how could I not? Plus, she’s laughing.”

Catra inhaled and giggled, then shook her head, “Thanks.. Oooh. Needed that. And, uh… thanks for Friday. It was… good. And this other stuff, yeah I just need to work out if it’s worth clinging on to, y’know? Memories are a bitch.”   
  


“Yes,” mused Perfuma, “But they can be lessons. If they’re providing stress then it’s something you need to work through, rationalise out. Otherwise it will just rule your day to day. If you don’t mind, what are they about?”

Catra regarded the woman, then sagged, “Just… things I said. That someone else  _ did.  _ I lost connection with someone and, well… I thought I was over it, but I got a reminder this weekend and it all kinda came crashing back.”

“An ex?” probed Perfuma gently. Catra laughed bitterly and the blonde continued, “Someone you wish had asked?”

Catra’s gaze snapped up and she snorted, “She… didn’t care. She left. I just got reminded about it and… the lack of closure, y’know.”   
  


Perfuma tilted her head, “You said something about…  _ things you said _ ?”

The brunette winced, “Uh… yeah. I.. .she said she was leaving. And I kinda…. Closed down, didn’t let her talk and… it was bad. I mean, I’m still angry she left but… but I didn’t,” she sniffled, “I didn’t say  _ goodbye _ ….”

She buckled and gripped the table as she tried to hold the tears in. This was  _ stupid _ . She was a rising star! She had led multi-million dollar deals! Faced down Weaver at her most bitter. She DIDN’T cry. Not over a silly college fantasy that had gone  _ nowhere _ .

Hands gripped hers and she looked up into two concerned faces. Perfuma frowned, “A friend of mine had something similar… she was on stage on Friday. We spoke about it a couple of years back. She.. well, she has tried to move on but she still has her moments of grief. And it is grief. It never goes away, but we learn how to manage it.” Perfuma chuckled and shook her head, “Who knows, maybe if you two spoke you could compare notes, work out something!”

Catra stared at her and the words clicked into place. She swallowed and snorted, “Huh. Maybe.”

“Oh, I can give her a call, if you think…”

“NO! No,, uh… no. that’s… it’s raw, y’know. Group therapy with a stranger, no thanks…” Catra rubbed the back of her neck and shrugged, “But, yeah… thanks for the idea.”

Scorpia eyed Catra, then steered the conversation away from work and stress to more genial and sedate things. An hour later, as Catra bid the pair farewell, she made her way home lost in thought.

Adora was grieving something? Maybe Catra had denied her closure as well? After all, cutting off a friendship had to have stung. Adora may not have reciprocated, but going by those videos she had cared about their friendship.

She mulled it over until she collapsed into bed that night, full of yet another takeout and after another insipid show that she watched on her TV in her sparse living room. The apartment felt cold and she felt trapped in her thoughts as she drifted off.

She wondered what Adora’s apartment looked like. Did it have art on the walls? Pictures? Or did she room in some sort of bedsit with a host of roommates? What had changed over the years? Did she live with a girlfriend? Boyfriend?

That made her flush and she turned on her side.

Was Adora with them now? Flexing that perfect physique. Did she have some girl’s hands pinned above her on the bed they shared whilst playing them expertly with her free hand. She knew Adora could probably pin someone one handed, if her display at the club was any indication.

Her hand slid down her front as she ground her teeth at the mental image. The girl (It had to be a girl, right? Adora was performing at the gayest bar in town…) writhed in her mind's eyes. She struggled against Adora’s grip. The blonde loomed over her, a smug smile on that strong face. Blue eyes danced with mirth and arousal. The girl’s hips jerked as Adora’s free hand trailed down her front, through the curls at her core. Then nimble fingers danced along her centre.

Catra moaned as she teased herself. Adora was probably wrecking the girl, right now. Was she a one night stand girl? Adora hadn’t seemed to date at college, but then again she worked so hard. And apparently had been doing extras.

But now? Now she was a buff fitness instructor. Did she do private lessons?

Did she rip down some soccer mom’s yoga pants and bend her over a dining table and rail her like some bad porno? Did she press into their back and whisper things in their ear?  _ Cum for me, take it, you’re so wet for me. _

Catra whined as she stroked her stiff bud and rolled her fingers down to her wet folds. She gathered the dampness and massaged her clit again, before tentatively sliding a finger inside.

Did Adora bring a girl home after that night? Flush with excitement from eye fucking a room of strangers, did she just trawl and grab some random girl? Haul her back to her apartment, force her to her knees? Did she put a leg over the girl’s shoulder and hold her head in place? 

In her mind, Catra watched as a dark haired girl licked and suckled, whilst Adora leaned back against a wall in some featureless space. The crouching girl moaned and her voice was like Catra’s. Her eyes opened and they were mismatched blue and amber. Her needy whine echoed from the fantasy to the real and Catra hunched and shuddered as she curled her fingers inside herself and pushed the heel of her hand against her clit. She shoved the fingers of her other hand into her mouth and sucked, desperately as, in her mind, Adora lifted her by her chin and slid her fingers into Catra’s mouth. Adora then pushed Catra against a wall and slipped her now-wet fingers into Catra’s waiting and wanting pussy.

The image tripped another nerve and Catra tumbled into another stomach clenching orgasm. She gasped around her fingers and spasmed, then went limp with a faint keening whine. She felt drained and yet oddly empty. Sated and yet somehow  _ not _ . Physically, but not  _ mentally. _

She flopped onto her back and sighed, then closed her eyes. She chuckled darkly to herself as her mind danced around  _ what ifs _ and  _ maybes. _

Sleep took a while to come.

\---------------------

The week was a slog, with Weaver being especially belligerent. She seemed anxious, as if she was being harried daily. But Catra saw that the woman was just being incompetent - mismanaging client calls, badly planning out project timelines, the works.

She bore the brunt of the tirades, ignored the vitriol and just kept Hordak approased of various bits of progress. And then, suddenly, it was Friday.

Catra had planned on heading home, catching a movie or just passing out. Except she was instead outside Brightmoon’s, eyeing the door with a certain amount of trepidation. With a huff and a roll of her shoulders, she marched in. Sebastian was at the bar again and greeted her warmly with what  _ looked _ like recognition. Thought that could have just been good patter.

Catra stayed for the show, but didn’t have a table. She stood at the back with the other onlookers and watched Double Trouble MC their way through the acts - this time a  _ clown _ of all things; another comedian; a jazz quartet who did a cover of a few more modern songs; and a couple of near strip-teases.

And then on came  _ Adora _ . She wore what looked like riding gear this time, crop and all. There was a  _ lot _ of thigh cracking with the leather rod. The helmet went first and Adora whipped her head about to unleash her full mane. A saddle had been set up on the stage, on a gym horse of all things. Puns clearly weren’t dead, at least visual ones weren’t.

Adora mounted the thing and flexed, pivoted and undulated. Her red jacket she discarded whilst atop the saddle. She spun it over her head and flung it away. Then she leaned back and arched her spine, before pulling her legs up. She curled over until she was doing a handstand atop the horse. Then she did the splits, before rolling herself back into the saddle. She dismounted, spun and swept into a kneeling position before she stood and wiggled that ridiculously toned ass at the audience.

Then she shimmied those tight riding trousers down to reveal a thong. She kicked the pants away but she still,  _ somehow _ had the riding boots on. Then, with a flourish, her top was off to reveal a barely there set of what looked like leather straps -  _ horse reins _ if Catra was any guess. They revealed her full breasts, but kept the nipples obscured.

Adora gyrated some more, then vaulted onto the saddle with an easy bound. She ground against it and Catra had never wanted to be leather upholstery so much in her entire life. 

Which was perhaps the first  _ conscious _ moment where she acknowledged that she might, still, have some lingering attractions.

She watched as Adora hefted herself up and swung her legs out - it offered the audience a tantalising glimpse, but never the  _ full _ package. A few more flashes and  _ maybes _ as Adora gyrated, shimmied and otherwise teased her way across the stage in various thrusting poses and gymnastic flexing, before the woman took her bow and vanished away.

Catra took that as her own cue to leave.

Her sleep was restless as she felt suddenly on a precipice as she stumbled into her apartment. She had closed off this part of her life - Adora had made a choice, had chosen a path and Catra had chosen hers; so why was she now fixating? Yeah there was a novelty to seeing the idiot blonde again, but there was a strange lack of closure to it. She had been happy to have gotten her career going, happy to get herself sorted and independent,  _ happy _ to have a goal in life!

Catra sagged against the basin in her bathroom and glowered at herself. She worried at her lip and cursed.

It would have been better if Adora had just been some barista. Or a retail serf. Or just some office drone. Catra could have smirked and done the whole  _ guess you made some shitty choices _ , laughed, and moved on to be with her friends and lived her life.

But instead Adora had looked  _ alive _ and vibrant. She had been happy.

Catra shoved herself away from the basin and stalked out into her living room. She took in the sparse decor, the stack of recent takeaway boxes, the bland view out of the window and hissed. Her fists clenched and she stalked over to the counter and swept the takeaway cartons off with a gutteral shriek of frustration.

_ This _ was the life she wanted! She wanted security, stability, prestige! She HAD it!

But it felt cold. She looked at her fridge - not adorned with post-its or magnets or photographs like their shared dorm mini-fridge. Her walls were bare and minimalist. Her couch, with its hard edges and cushions, suddenly austere and unwelcoming.

She slumped against the counter and slid down, arms on knees, then dropped her head into her palms.

Catra drew a shuddered breath and swallowed, then managed a faint smile at Melog’s curious chirrup. The cat stalked over and trilled at her, so Catra reached out and scratched behind their ear.

“I have no idea what’s going on. Weird… nostalgia poisoning? Like, am I  _ jealous _ of a fuckin’  _ stripper _ ? Just… hoo… I’m fucking  _ exhausted _ . That’s gotta be it. Take a single night off and I lose my edge,” she tsked to herself. “Weaver’s a lesson in that. Drinks like a fuckin’ fish and she’s on her way out. Soon it’ll be  _ me _ there and I am NOT dropping the ball on this.”   
  


She nodded to herself but her gut still twinged with apprehension and a sense of loss.

But she’d learnt you had to  _ push _ things at times. Be relentless. Be aggressive. Push through the pain… wasn’t that what Adora said in her videos? Determination?

She’d show her. Yeah, she might be quoting Catra, but Catra was going to  _ live _ it.

Was it sane to take advice from someone who was taking that same advice from you? Sort of cyclical? Catra didn’t care. She just needed to shake off this wobble. Seeing a blast from the past didn’t change her future. She just needed to avoid Adora’s workplace and duck any repeats. With her resolve hardened in her head (But not  _ quite _ in her heart) she managed to bring herself to clear the boxes from the floor and retired to bed.

\----------------------

A month floated by as Catra buried herself at work. She ignored Scorpia’s invites, pleading that it was  _ urgent _ she get stuff out for Weaver. She blanked Emily and zoned out Lonnie. She powered through contracts, made annotations, proposed new methods. Hell, she’d had about three different presentations ready to go. So what if she’d clocked 16 hour days for the past two weeks? So what if she felt like her blood was now 90% coffee and her eyes burned? She was going to  _ nail this _ . So it was  _ worth it _ .

But halfway through the fourth week (after having worked  _ whole _ weekends) she found herself hauled into Hordak’s office by Weaver and torn a new one over the quality of her submissions; the  _ frequent _ edits that Weaver  _ had _ to do; and her slow response time on Sunday (Weaver had sent her a request for information at 1 AM Monday morning, but Weaver refused to see the difference)

Hordak, pale, and with his perpetual frown in place had given Catra a look that said ‘ _ So?’ _

The meeting had turned into a verbal beat down as Weaver unloaded every piece of criticism she’d back up for the past two years - citing a mistake Catra had made  _ eighteen months ago _ ; issues with document turnarounds; photocopy errors. Every minor infraction she could think up, she deployed.

Catra reeled from the level of absolute vitriol. She felt her hackles rise, her rage build. Every single  _ unfair thing _ boiled up inside her. Every sacrifice, every late night, every weekend, every forgotten dinner, every missed chance to socialise, every  _ lost friend _ .

The train of thought didn’t just arrive at the station, it jackknifed the line and took out several mental platforms.

Catra had devoted  _ everything _ to this career. EVERYTHING. And she’d left a lot behind.

As she stared at her supervisor as the woman ranted at Hordak about Catra’s shortcomings, she realised something. Not just that Weaver was  _ angry _ ; no, she was embarrassed, too.

In her addled, twitchy state she snorted. Weaver stuttered to a halt to turn and glare at her. Catra took one look at the woman and burst out laughing. She sagged in the chair as Hordak frowned across the desk at her. She slapped the arm rest then wheezed and sat up straight.

“Sorry… sorry. Just, y’know… hard to take that seriously.”

Hordak arched an eyebrow, “Please, explain, Catra.”

Weaver opened her mouth to sneer something but Catra raised a hand, “Just, only maybe a quarter of that got raised to me? Photocopying? Trainee stuff. Or Repro. I can ask them to redo stuff, but unless someone  _ says _ it’s unsuitable… eh. Not much I can do. Was I given development points on some of this? Nope. Not once has she mentioned the hours I’ve put in…”

“If you were any good, you wouldn’t need to work such hours,” huffed Weaver.

“I work them because you  _ tell _ me to work them,” hissed Catra, “I’ve kept  _ four _ clients from walking.”

“ _ Hardly _ . They are loyal to me.”

Catra’s smile was feral, “Care to test that?”   
  


Weaver snorted but looked suddenly askance at her. The woman had bags under her eyes and a near perpetual flush to her once-pristine features, “You need to learn how to take constructive criticism, Catra. You will not survive in this industry unless you learn humility and  _ professionalism _ .”

“I have testimonials from our clients that they would have  _ walked _ if they had to primarily deal with  _ you _ ,” Catra leaned back, “I have a  _ lot _ to learn… I know,” she shot a look at Hordak, who just sat, impassive, watching the pair, “But I know my worth.”

“Which is dictated by  _ us _ . What, you think you’ll get hired somewhere else? You’ll need a reference and by the gods I will not…”

“Nah, I just don’t want to work with you. I’ll take feedback and criticism… when it’s actually given. And not slung at me from a restaurant or wine bar across  _ town _ .”

“How DARE you!”

Hordak frowned and coughed. Weaver froze and turned to stare at the man. He shrugged, “I think it best if Catra is no longer involved in  _ your _ work, Sharon. In fact, I think she needs to hand that work back to you.”

Weaver grinned viciously and Catra sat up, “What?”

The other woman smiled at her, “Pick your battles, girl… So, Hercule, who is to be my  _ new _ associate?”

“You won’t be getting one. I think it’s time you revisited your client base. If the work quality is so poor, I am  _ concerned _ for your ability to  _ mentor _ . I suggest you go and  _ arrange _ things.”

Weaver’s expression turned to one of shocked outrage, “But I am a  _ Partner _ !”

“And thus you should be eminently skilled in doing your  _ JOB _ ,” growled Hordak, “Catra. Sit. We are not  _ done _ . Sharon, thank you for your time.”

The other Partner huffed, stood and left. Catra squirmed in her seat as Hordak stared at her, his features scarily still. She blinked, a sudden wave of tiredness behind her eyes, “Uh… so… I…”

“You need to learn to pick your battles, Catra. And your opponents. Weaver is the  _ least _ intimidating Partner in the firm. We may be lawyers, but facts and  _ moral high ground _ mean precious little. You cannot get through her assuming you can browbeat and declare yourself a  _ hard worker _ .”

Catra nodded slowly. Hordak arched an eyebrow and she took it as a moment to speak, “Uh… of course. But I… um… I volunteer. I get good feedback. I do good work…. So I’m told?”

Hordak actually smiled at that. A thin lipped expression, “Very good. To succeed here is to know what to prioritise. You do not strike me as someone content to  _ coast _ . We value our employees… but only when they do not think themselves bigger than the whole. You will be working on my accounts now, Catra. You will find me to have a different style to Weaver. I have expectations and habits. You will have to learn them.”

Catra sat in the chair as Hordak pushed a notepad towards her along with a pen. She’d been given access to a whole new pool - new accounts, new contracts, new clients. She was out from Weaver’s cloying grip. She should feel vindicated.

As she moved her meagre personal effects from Weaver’s office (with the woman nowhere to be seen), Catra’s work phone  _ dinged _ with the myriad notifications of calendar notifications and prompts. Later, as she listened to Hordak list the timelines, the accounts, the delivery timescales, she pondered whether she’d won anything at all.

\------------------------

It was another two weeks before Catra awoke to the sound of hammering. She groaned and made to stand, but instead thudded out of bed. She dragged the sheet with her, which sent Melog tumbling with a protesting yowl.

“Fuuuuck…” Catra managed to claw her way upright and stumbled out of her bedroom, past the stacks of paper across her kitchen counter, towards the front door. She fumbled with the latch and swung it open with a “WHAT?”

Scorpia stood there, with Emily next to her. Their height difference made Catra actually giggle as she blinked at them. Scorpia cleared her throat, “Uhh… heeyyyyy, Wildcat.”

“‘Sup Scorp?”

“Are you… alone?”

“‘S a bit deep for a Saturday morning….”

“Um… it’s afternoon.”

“And it’s Sunday,” supplied Emily.

“The hell it is,” slurred Catra, “I’d know.”

“Are you… drunk, buddy?”

“Me, no? I mean… no  _ time for that _ , Hordak’s stuff is… well, y’know?”

Emily frowned, “Is his work also shirt optional? He hasn’t asked that of me yet.”

“Wha?” Catra blinked at the wheelchair-bound woman. She glanced at Scorpia with a  _ what’s her deal? _ Expression. Except Scorpia was training her eyes at the ceiling, “Sarah… Scorp… what’s up?”

Scorpia gestured very carefully at Catra as a whole. Catra huffed, looked down, shrugged, then looked back up, then froze and did a double take. She squeaked and slammed the apartment door whilst trying to cover her naked body and sprinted back to her room. Several minutes later, clad in yoga pants and a shirt (which she hadn’t noticed was on the wrong way round) she re-opened the door with a glassy smile.

Her friends came in and took in the paperwork explosion across the apartment. Emily frowned, “I need to talk to Hercule…”

Catra shook her head, “Nope, nuh uh… This… this is fine. I’m managing.”

“It looks like you’re mapping out a novel here…” murmured Scorpia. She glanced at Catra, “And you look like you’ve been three rounds at the gym and lost.”

“I’m not  _ that _ bad. I’m just… focused. Like Adora says.”   
  


Scorpia blinked, “Who?”

“Adora… on the, uh… videos.”

Emily glanced between the pair and Scorpia shrugged, but her eyes narrowed, “Adora… I… you don’t mean  _ Shira?” _

“WHY would I mean  _ Shira _ ? I mean, not like I’ve met  _ Shira _ .”

“You found her fitness videos didn’t you! Oh WOW! Wait til Perfuma hears Adora has a  _ fan _ !” Scorpia grinned, “Hey, maybe she’ll introduce you properly, since you’ve been skipping out on…”

“NO NO!” Catra shook her head, “No introductions! It’d be.. .weird. And… just weird, ok? And don’t say anything to Perfuma. Don’t mention me to Adora. I… feel… weird about it, ok?”

Emily pursed her lips, then spun in her chair and surveyed the room, “You know this would be far more efficient with some sort of sorting system. Maybe if we can find a process flow and…”   
  


“NO! I got this guys! And… why are you  _ here _ ?” Catra managed to get to the kitchen counter and sighed. Her head felt woozy and her limbs ached. She’d been going pretty hard, but she  _ had _ to get this done, had to make all this  _ worthwhile _ . She was going to nail this. It was what she’d brutalised herself in college for, after all.

“We’re… worried Wildcat,” The earnestness and quietness of her voice stilled Catra as she reached for the kettle. She turned and leaned against the counter.

“I’m  _ fine _ . I’m doing what I always  _ dreamed _ about.”

“But you aren’t  _ happy _ .” Catra looked at Emily in surprise. The woman huffed and her face suddenly broke into a broad smile, “I mean, we can run through the things that  _ make _ you happy. I have a list…” and then she fished a notepad out of her trouser pocket.

“Emily….”

“So, um.. Here we go. Gin. Tonic. Gin and Tonic,” Catra bit her lip and relaxed. Emily continued, “Melog. Scorpia… Except on Mondays. Ice cream. Naps. Shira.”   
  


Catra’s smile fell away and Scorpia glanced at Emily, then back at Catra with a vindicated grin, “You DO have a crush!”

“Shut UP!”

For once Scorpia just nodded and nudged Emily’s wheelchair, “Hey, uh… think we touched a nerve.”

Emily looked up from her notebook then stared at Catra. She nodded slowly and frowned, “Ah, yes. I can see that you have the  _ too much _ face on right now. Shall I do the paper sorting?”

“I uh… it’s where I want it.”

Emily nodded and rolled back across the floor. Melog took that moment to bound in from the bedroom and vaulted into Emily’s lap. She cooed and began to pet the cat, while Scorpia stepped around the counter and helped Catra make coffee. Or rather, she made coffee while Catra stood to one side and tried to stop her hands shaking.

Emily did wheel over to near the couch and cleared a space, careful to track which piece of paper went where and to not muddle up the order. Scorpia gently guided Catra over to the couch. When she sat down, she actually shivered and groaned. Scorpia sipped her drink and shook her head, “You’re burning out, Wildcat.”

“I… I have to get used to this, Scorp. This is how it is, y’know?”

“But you aren’t enjoying it?”

Catra bristled, “I’m not? How the fuck do you know?”

The big woman sighed, “Because you’re acting like you from two years ago. After you were promoted from Trainee.”

“You’re being an asshole and ignoring us!” chimed in Emily, “What? That’s what you said…”

Scorpia rolled her eyes, “But in a  _ worried _ way.”

“Oh. Well, still. Are you sure this isn’t to do with Shira? Or Adora? Because you seemed stressed after watching her at the show that time.”   
  


Catra stared at the woman and managed a high pitched “ _ No!  _ Why… why would I care? I was just... I’d had too much to drink and I was tired.” she clutched her coffee, “And now… look I appreciate you guys coming over and  _ maybe _ I’ve been overdoing it.”

Emily nodded slowly and Scorpia smiled, “We’re not forcing anything, Catra,” she offered. Across from them Emily nodded in agreement. Scorpia continued, “Look, you have career aspirations that I can’t even, like,  _ imagine _ . I don’t compare. Because it’s not, well, me, so I can’t judge. If this makes you happy, then… so be it. But, y’know… try to make sure you get to enjoy the goal by not peaking too soon?”

“Whaddya mean?” scoffed Catra.

“Heart attack before thirty five,” chimed in Emily, “Increased blood pressure. Complete lack of a social life. Limited to zero romantic prospects.”

“ _ Ouch _ ,” winced Catra with mock hurt. Or what she hoped  _ looked _ like mock hurt. Because that actually stung.

“I mean, if you don’t want to hang with us, that’s… that’s cool,” Scorpia averted her gaze, then looked back sharply, “And I’m NOT trying to guilt you! Just… you’d tell us, right? Be honest with us? If we’re gonna end a friendship I’d… I’d like to know why.”

_ I’d like to know why _ .

That sliced across Catra’s mind like cheese wire. She winced and smiled, “Scorp, I’m not avoiding you guys. I just needed to reorient, y’know? That night out blew the cobwebs, made me realise that this is totally what I want. That I NEED to do this. Make it all worthwhile, y’know?”

Emily blinked, “Make what worthwhile?”

“Like… my investment at college. The sacrifices. Shit I.. I haven’t done, y’know?”

“So, you’re punishing yourself at a job to make up for not doing things you wanted to do, but you say you’re enjoying the job that is preventing you doing those things, except the implication is that it  _ isn’t _ enjoyable and is a means to an end, but you haven’t specified what that end  _ is _ .”

Emily looked to be mulling the statement over, while Catra moved her jaw and huffed, “I… I have a goal at the end of it.”   
  


“Oh! Ok!” Emily leaned forwards and nodded vigorously. “Is it something like making enough money to fund an expensive robotics hobby to the point you want to monetise it and make it a more mainstream activity?”

Scorpia and Catra opened their mouths, then exchanged looks. Scorpia managed, “Is that… yours?”

“Psh no. Mine is to create a durable and lightweight exoskeleton that can alleviate frustrations for individuals with neurological and impactful disorders or diminished motor functions. The robot thing is Hercule’s plan,” she smiled softly, “He is  _ so good _ with robots. And he wants to do it because his little brother is  _ so into it _ .”

Scorpia and Catra exchanged another long look, before Catra managed an, “Oooo-KAY, well, that’s… something I never saw coming. Um, but mine is…” she trailed off and blinked.

Emily nodded, enthusiastically. Scorpia cocked her head, “Go on, Wildcat. Safe space, remember. Well, it’s your place. So, yeah… safe as it gets! I mean, nothing here to really damage yourself on. Papercuts maybe!” the woman smiled, good naturedly, “Always thought the whole minimalist thing was a bit empty, but you  _ own _ it so well!”

It wasn’t an insult. It clearly wasn’t. And yet it  _ felt _ like one. Catra hunched over and hugged the mug to her chest, “I… I want to be in charge, y’know? Listened to. Respected.”

_ Loved? _

Scorpia nodded but her face twisted a little bit, “Ok… so… basically be your own boss, right? Good salary etc etc… but, uh… what then?”

Catra blinked, nonplussed, “What do you mean?”

“Well, like I said, lots of work, that means more work, which keeps you away from anything that  _ isn’t _ work,” mused Emily, “So… what for? Unless you like… the work?”

The brunette grappled for that out, “Yeah it’s… I like the work. It’s stimulating. I mean yeah, who doesn’t like a night out. But guys, would I do this if I  _ didn’t _ like it? This is me.”

“I mean, you do snark a lot at things you hate…” mumbled Scorpia. Emily nodded slowly.

“I suppose.”

“And, well… y’know. Vacations. Those will happen. And, well, it’s gotta be easier to date when you’re a bigger player, right? Higher up?” Catra didn’t look at them as she spoke. She hunched up a little more.

Emily nodded slowly, “I suppose. Those um… Partner parties are kind of fun. I guess. I went to one last week. It was… a bit dull. Lots of talk of businessy stuff. Lots of smiling but I don’t think anyone meant it, but I do find it hard to tell sometimes. Um… I think there’s some people sleeping with each other, from what I heard. But I don’t think they’re supposed to be,” she frowned at Catra, “Is that what you mean?”

She blanched, “Uh, no, well…  _ no _ . But, who can say… how the, y’know, when shit like that happens?”

Scorpia shifted, “What, sex? Or, y’know, love?”

“Lo...lo… that yeah, the whole romance, kissy stuff, yeah,” Catra’s brain was far too foggy to be able to have this conversation without something triggering her into a flood of hand flapping and angry tears. Or scratching nails and snarling recrimination. She wasn’t quite sure which way it’d go, “Look… guys. You’re right I am.. I am  _ beat _ . You mind um letting me sleep? I.. I think I need it. You’re right.”

She sagged and the other two women exchanged a glance, then nodded. Scorpia tentatively put a hand on Catra’s shoulder, “Get some rest, ok? And… maybe coffee this week? We miss you.”

Catra’s smile was watery, “Yeah… yeah let’s do it. I… I’ve been a bit shitty I know. But, well.. Hordak wants things done. Honestly, I don’t know how he gets out of the office for that robot stuff you talk about Em.”

“Oh uh… I think it’s because he’s delegated it all to you and the other associates,” winced Emily, “Well, the boring stuff. He still handles the in depth legal things but he’s so practiced at it. I mean I watch him at home…”   
  


The other two wheeled on her, “Home?”

“Uh. Yes. We moved in together last week?”

“WHAT?”

Emily waved her hands, “Surprise? That’s how this goes, yes? Um, so, yeah he had a whole load of accessibility devices installed. He even remodelled his kitchen for me!” she smiled softly, “And he let me use his  _ workshop _ ….”

Catra arched an eyebrow, “Kinky, I guess?”

Scorpia guffawed and shook her head, “Ok, so, we’re saving this whole conversation for, y’know.. Coffee time. When Wildcat is actually vaguely human. No offence, but… get some sleep, ok?”

“Ok,” Catra lied. She thanked her friends, then walked them both to the door. As it clicked shut behind them, she leaned her head against it and exhaled.

This was what she wanted. Completely. It was worth it.

It had to be.

She’d be secure. Safe.

_ Alone, don’t forget that _ .

WIth teeth clenched, she pushed off the door and headed back to the couch, where she unfolded her laptop and got back to work.

\--------------------------------

She managed coffee with Emily and Scorpia. They laughed, joked. She laughed, joked, even if her smile felt a bit forced. She kept her head. She ploughed through more work.

She managed two more weeks.

Then she walked into Hordak’s office to confirm the latest Due Diligences had been done, she’d filed the billings for the past four contract drafts  _ and _ she’d finished off his latest tranche of bid documents.

He looked at her across the desk, nodded, then frowned, “So?”

“So.. uh… it’s done.”

“And you expect….?”

Catra blinked and shrugged, “Um.”

“Bonuses are calculated at the end of you. As long as your hours are fine, your attitude remains fine, and margin remains acceptable, well. You should do comparably well against your peers. Also, I need a rerun on four new bid assessments and five documents proof read by Tuesday morning. Ideally, actually, by Monday so I can reassess.”

And then he turned back to his screen. Catra glanced up at the clock on the wall - it was six o’clock. On a Friday. Hordak looked up, then at the clock, then at her and frowned. She swallowed, “I’ve… I’ve been pretty uh… my hours are… uh.”

“Yes. The Operations team flagged you had been putting in extra time. However, if you must work a weekend, be sure to charge that against a non billable item, as it skews our figures.”

“What?”

Hordak sighed, “It makes our contracts less profitable. And reduces our margin profitability.”

“You mean  _ your _ margin profitability.”

“Quite so. I am not remunerated via a  _ salary _ . Keep your billed time reasonable, put excess hours to non billed codes and I will ensure at appraisal you are recognised.”

Catra narrowed her eyes, “Are you gonna put that in writing?”

Hordak stared at her and shook his head slowly, “Catra, we operate on a trust system. I have placed my faith in you to deliver my work. Now you must trust me. Your hours are high, so reflect that. But too much and personnel may put you on mandatory sick leave. And you would not wish  _ that _ on your record, now, would you? Off with  _ stress _ ?”

There was no sinister insinuation. Not  _ quite _ . Just a statement, a way of telling her  _ that’s how it was _ .

She was a cog. And if she got herself worn out, well… they’d take her out of service. And remember she got worn out. Best to pretend. To keep going. To hope that the Partners would ‘have your back’. Politics. Favour.

Stability? Fuck no.

She nodded curtly, turned, then left and made her way to her own desk in her small, cluttered office. Well, hers and a trainee. She sat and stared at her inbox. 35 new emails. More files. More contracts. A reminder to close her timesheets. A notification for a  _ mental health webinar _ . To ensure all her billed time was correctly marked (despite Hordak basically saying the opposite). Training reminders. Compliance reminders. Keep up to date. Keep learning. Keep abreast of things. Keep churning.

Catra sat back in her chair and twitched. She dragged the mouse across the screen then shut her laptop down. She closed it, then stowed it in the lockable drawer. A moment later she pulled out her work phone and stowed that in there too.

Then she stood and grabbed her bag, then headed for the lifts.

The office was pretty much empty, only Hordak still in his office. She hadn’t seen Weaver for a few days and her office looked surprisingly emptier than normal. 

Her mind felt like cotton wool, her sleep having been wrecked by late nights and too much caffeine. She’d interrupted her work with the odd guilty video of Adora. Mostly her newer non-fitness videos. Just the idiot walking, chatting to the camera. More than once Catra had responded in her sleep-deprived haze and sniffled when Adora hadn’t heard her.

Well.  _ Well _ . Well. That. Was certainly a thing she could change.

The metro blurred by. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten on board. The streets felt so similar, just neon signs and muffled music from the bars she passed. Until she reached where she needed to be.

She nodded to the big woman out front, barely registering her as she strode through. The bar loomed in front of her, the crowd around just white noise. Sebastian looked up and frowned at her, then dipped back to procure a glass. He kept his eyes on her as he filled the tankard, then slid it across the bar. Catra blinked at it, then flicked her heterochromatic gaze to him, “Whassat?”

“Water, dear lady. Because I am  _ not _ serving you alcohol. Yet. Not until you’ve had at least  _ four _ of those.”

Catra blinked owlishly, “I am not  _ drunk _ .”

“No. But you are tired. And that’ll make the alcohol hit in the same way. Oh, have these too,” a small dish of olives seemed to materialise as his hands blurred across the bar. She blinked in surprise then shook her head and slid into a bar stool. She drained the glass easily, then found a new one in front of her. She ripped into the olives as Sebastian leaned over the bar, “Bad day?”

“Bad… month,” she glared at him, “Why am I telling you this?”

“I have a face that demands tales be told!” he waggled his eyebrows, “Beau says it’s my irascible nature and indomitable spirit!”

She scoffed, “He would say that. Nerd.”

“Oh, you know Beau?” Sebastian tilted his head, “I mean, I remember you from the last few times… but haven’t seen you back for a few weeks, dear lady. And not at the afterparties either.”

Catra’s grip on the glass tightened, “Afterparties huh? Big ol’ sexcapade?” her grin was faintly manic and she tried to rein her emotions in. Her fear that maybe, possibly there was nothing  _ else _ . That it was too late.

_ Too late? For WHAT? _

Sebastian leaned back and laughed, “Well, that is certainly a new one! Or an old one I haven’t heard in  _ many _ a year. No. Old Trouble upstairs might enjoy those adventures but we prefer board games, honestly. Or just a few good bottles with friends. Quite nice to just sit on a stage and  _ reminisce _ . And with a pair of lovelies like mine, what could be better.”

“Oh yeah, how does Gloria handle it?”

“Oh ho, you are acquainted with the boss, are you?”

Catra sputtered, “What now?”

“Oh yes! Owns and runs the place. A real dynamo that one! Honestly, it’s a mix of scheduling and planning. I’ll be honest, it’s not easy,” he set to cleaning a glass, then dove to one side to serve another customer. Catra stared at the bar top for a moment as she chewed an olive, then spat out the seed and drained her glass. Sebastian was back in front of her with a grin. She frowned at him.

“And why are  _ you _ telling me this?”

“Because you asked! And you seem to need conversation! Also, it’s always good to educate! Learning is an adventure for the mind! Horizons: EXPANDED!” he gesticulated and grinned, “Plus I cannot help but declare my love from the highest mast!”

Catra groaned, “You were a theatre kid, right?”

“Business major actually. I was supposed to join dad in the shipping firm, but honestly… it’s not as romantic as it sounds.”

“Yeah. Long haul logistics. Really gets the pulse racing,” deadpanned Catra. Sebastian shrugged.

“So, proposed a bar setup to Glimmer… Gloria I mean, because she knew Mer through family, and bam! I am now in charge of the bar aspects! Drinks, staffing, you name it.”

“And banging the boss's boyfriend?” Catra quirked her eyebrow and managed a half smile. Sebastian laughed.

“I’d be lying if we don’t occasionally talk about  _ perks _ , but as I said… communication and boundaries! Now… I think you can manage a single now, if you’re interested?”

Catra sighed and nodded, “I uh,... think I might need it.”

“Well, I am putting you on a one drink limit. Alcohol doesn’t help us forget. Just makes learning the lessons harder!”

“You sound like Perfuma… and decrying alcohol, kinda shooting yourself in the foot there, sailor boy.”

“Well, she is a dear friend. And all things in moderation. If I was a cynic I’d say I’d prefer repeat customers. Someone who blacks out won’t remember their  _ experience _ here. And as you can see… plenty of alternatives to the harder stuff.”

Catra shrugged, then glanced at the stairs, “So… Shira on tonight?”

Sebastian glanced her way and smiled, “Of course.”

“I guess it’s standing room only…”

Sebastian leaned on the bar and cocked his head, “Catra, yes?” She looked at him and stared, “Your friend mentioned your name last time. And Perfuma’s mentioned you in passing.”   
  


“Uh huh.”

“Interesting though. Beau has mentioned another Catra to me.”

“Oh, pillow talk about another girl huh?” Catra looked away and sipped her drink.

“More mutual worries. It just so happens I can get you a table. Would you care for one?”

Catra swallowed, her throat tightened and she slowly looked at the barman. His smile was genuine, “And… if I say no?”

“Not sure why you would. Boring just standing there. And why would you say  _ no _ ? Your choice, though!”

He turned away to serve someone else and Catra sipped at her water. She blinked as a Gin and tonic slid across the bar and she glanced at Sebastian’s face, “Yeah. Alright. A table.”

\-----------------------

She had not expected a table  _ right at the front of the damn stage _ .

The room filled up around her and she swore she saw Beau clock her from behind the bar. But she couldn’t make out his expression. But then again it had been over four years. And her hair was  _ very _ different. AND she was in a suit. A nice burgundy number. Caught the eye. That was probably it.

She cradled her water in her hand and hunched in her seat. Soon the lights went down and Double Trouble skipped onto the stage. She was barely aware as the MC riled up the crowd, plucking them like a violinist with their strings. He even got a dig in at her.

“Ohhh love the eyes babe… bet they’re the only hetero thing about you though, huh?” she flipped them the bird and the MC made a fanning motion, “FL-IR-T! You stay right there hunny, you are gonna  _ love _ the drill tonight. And not the one you keep at home  _ YE-OW!” _

Catra was just about able to keep still as she watched the acts - a soliloquy by a person wearing a half and half costume. At the end, they then alternated play dialogue from Much Ado About Nothing whilst rotating to present each character. Catra shifted, bored and impatient.

Mermista came on, this time in a sari and what looked like a trident. She danced about, no tap-dance this time, more a Bollywood striptease to a sensuous vocal soundtrack. She unhooked the sari, unwrapping it slowly, then spun it about to reveal the teal set of underwear beneath - it was layered, with garters and a corset design. She gyrated on stage and flexed, then can canned from one side to the other, high kicking as she went, before sprawling onto the stage floor to bicycle her legs as she undid the corset. She rolled over and flung it away to reveal her breasts, the areolas adorned by pads with flamboyant tassels atop them. She shimmied, then thrust her chest forwards as the music climaxed, then bowed low as the lights went off.

Catra wasn’t made of wood - she appreciated a good figure. And whilst she’d watched with interest, it wasn’t what she  _ wanted _ .

_ Glad you’re getting there _ , supplied some part of her foggy brain.

Another band came on, this one doing a jazzified version of  _ Toxic _ , then  _ Seven Nation Army _ . The singer crooned like she was in a speakeasy. Catra actually felt slightly lulled by it and started to relax.

DT pranced back out and did their bit, applauding the band and praising the acts to come, hyping the crowd. Then they danced off again to be replaced by a pair of androgynous, near identical acrobats who vaulted and pranced across the stage. They wore white tunics and pale makeup and moved with an almost unnerving symmetry. They hefted each other, balanced and flipped across the stage. This wasn’t the gracefulness of dance, but the exhibition of power. Another two, near identical acrobats came out - Catra couldn’t tell who was who after a few moments - their hair was even done identically, dyed white it seemed. Their movements were fluid and purposeful. Catra was reminded of a video of Cirque du Soleil she’d watched once - though this was on a far smaller scale. And it felt a bit more  _ militant _ \- their uniformity was not quite off putting but it felt machine like. Which was probably the intent.

She watched as suddenly all four turned to face the audience and tore off their white tunics, to reveal a myriad of colours. And then their acrobatics became less stilted, less machine like, more of a flow of bouncing, flips and almost chaotic movement that culminated in a higher and high flips until one pair mounted the shoulders of the other pair in a single leap. They held the pose, then flipped off and dashed from the stage after a quick bow.

“Wow. They can flip flop me  _ any  _ time. Four for the price of one, huh!” laughed DT. They ushered on a young comic who regaled the audience with some self-deprecating laughs which turned into wicked barbs and hooked the audience with callbacks - not bad for a ten minute set.

And then… then the lights went down. A low drumming echoed around the floor as people began to stamp and chat.

_ “Shi.RA. Shi. RA. Shi. RA.” _

“It’s time. From the far off fields of an ethereal land… when all is lost. You want a hero? Some knight in shining armour? How  _ straight _ of you. How about… a princess?”

The lights came up.

On stage was a  _ horse _ . A proper horse. Or rather a really good mannequin of one. Great, feathered wings extended up from its sides. And then they moved.

They weren’t attached to the horse - they were attached to  _ Adora _ . She’d been hidden behind them, on the horse. But she rolled her arms and the wings fluttered. They were large, fan like, as tall as her. How she was wielding them without falling or dropping them Catra didn’t know.

Adora rolled upright from where she’d been lying on the horse’s back and flicked the wings, revealing a tantalising glimpse of creamy white skin. Catra felt herself lean forwards slightly, her mouth open.

The blonde covered herself with one wing, but lowered it to reveal her upper face, briefly. She wore a tiara, but it looked more like a mask of sorts, as it stretched down to the side of her face. Like something an Amazon would wear. Adora flicked the wing again as she extended a leg, which was clad in a white stocking and Catra had to bite her lip to stop a whimper.

She hadn’t even  _ seen _ all of Adora yet. And this was somehow  _ worse _ . More alluring.

With a graceful movement, Adora slid from the back of the horse, still concealed by the wings. And then she advanced forwards, strutting down the stage. She flipped a wing to the side, but the other was there, concealing her body, but keeping her face visible. Again she flipped the wing, the other one whipped into place so fast only the barest, tantalising glimpse was possible. Then she spun and Catra got a glimpse of a white thong before the wings obscured her from behind. Again she strutted, the wings flicking like a teasing peacock.

She turned again, then spread her arms, revealing herself in her full glory - a white basque with stockings and elbow length white gloves that strained against her muscular arms. Adora placed her hands behind her back and smirked at the audience as she flapped the wings behind her. Then she brought her arms across her chest to flap them at her shoulders, rolling her hips as she did so. Her thong hooked over the V of her torso and  _ barely _ covered her. The gaps between stocking, thigh and thong revealed so much skin and Catra’s grip on her glass felt painfully tight; she was worried it would shatter in her clutches.

Adora turned her back again and continued to flutter the wings as she  _ bounced _ . Catra felt that was just borderline illegal.

Her hips swayed and Catra realised there was actual music playing. It was a familiar song; the same one she’d heard before, her first time here.

_ We must be strong. _

_ And we must be brave. _

She chuckled at that; the song was in a quiet, slower key, but slightly faster than last time, allowing Adora to move with a more decisive gait as she danced and flowed across the stage. This wasn’t her showing off acrobatics, just control. The woman sank to the floor and moved her legs, spreading, curling up and rolling carefully and precisely. She kept the wings up again, to hide herself as she rolled, shooting coquettish looks over the top.

Then she got onto her knees and flung the wings away. She  _ crawled _ up the stage like a tiger and for the briefest moment… their eyes met. Adora blinked and she looked like she might freeze.

But then the beat kicked in and she shuddered and recovered, to roll forwards into a hand-stand that she held. She pumped her legs, then lowered and spread them, twitching her hips and rolling them in a lewd display. Catra was pretty sure she had no moisture in her mouth as it had been urgently repurposed elsewhere in her body.

Adora continued to gyrate, then straightened her legs above her and slowly lowered herself back to the stage floor, where she flattened herself out and  _ then _ pushed herself up into a yoga pose, head arched back, neck exposed. Catra unconsciously licked her lips, her mind so focused on the performance in front of her.

The blonde stood and whipped her head around, her ponytail streaming behind her. As she moved, the basque came away and she was revealed, covered in neon body paint. The house lights went down to a blue tint and Adora was lit up like a light-show - all geometric shapes that weren’t just on her torso - her stockings had lines on there, her arms too. Jagged, compared to the straight lines of her torso. They were green, compared to the mix of orange and blue that adorned her chest.

Adora moved, her body a dim shadow in the low light, the jerky and stiff movements of her limbs contrasted against the roll of her torso - her stomach flexed as she arched; her shoulders rolled and her breasts bounced, the lines there moving with and excited urgency as she thrust and danced.

Slowly, Adora sank down and crossed her arms, the green seeming to obscured the mixed colours on her chest. Her legs came up as she sat and the neon paint was covered in shadow and green. Catra held her breath as the song rose. And then it kicked in in a major key and faster. A full repeat. The green on Adora’s arms flew off as she pulled both gloves away simultaneously, sending them away. Her skin underneath was daubed with rainbow neon paint that seemed to shine from the stage. Adora rolled onto her back and kicked her legs in the air and there was the audible sound of tearing as, with each pump, the stockings came apart. She pulled her legs close, then pushed them up and  _ flipped _ to her feet. The stockings were torn, the green gone, her legs now also covered in rainbows.

Adore twirled, a whirlwind of colour and then she stopped. The house lights came on and she stood there, panting, wild eyed and grinning, covered in dripping paint and sweat, her breasts exposed but modesty (just) preserved by crystal-like patches over nipples. Her abs flexed as she panted and her eyes seemed to be searching the crowd. The room was filled with applause and Catra ducked behind the lamp of her table, but raised her arms to clap as well. She clapped until her palms  _ ached _ .

Adora seemed suddenly a bit pensive as she went to tip toes and tried to look about the room. Catra actually slid nearly under the table.

_ Coward _ .

But if Adora saw her, then what? An emotional reunion on stage? A public shouting match? Catra pretended to fiddle with her purse, glad that some of the people nearby were seemingly drawing Adora’s attention with whoops and cheers. The blonde smiled, but it looked a bit watery. Then she bowed, waved and skipped off the stage.

Catra sat back up and her mind blanked.

_ Now what? _

Why was she here? A bad week?

She’d wanted to do something. And she  _ needed _ to do something.

Something she should have done years ago. She needed closure. She needed to move on. Yes.

_ You sure about that? _

Something about getting Adora to answer those questions she’d muttered at her videos, right? Or was it to tell her to… what? Get lost?

This was her workplace! But still.

Closure.

Catra looked at the empty glass of G&T and bit her lip. She wasn’t drunk, she knew that. But she also knew she wasn’t  _ quite _ thinking straight.

_ Heh. Got that right _ .

She was thinking with something other than her brain, she knew. Something that ached with confusion and old pain. She sat up straight and puffed out her cheeks. Around her, the theatre was emptying as people moved downstairs. She hadn’t even heard Double Trouble make their farewells. She glanced around and spotted a door near the stage, between it and the bar, marked  _ Staff Only. _

She stood. She decided. She made a bee-line for it.

No one paid her any mind as she slipped through the door into a fairly nondescript, short hallway. It was actually a curve -to her right there was an access stairwell and what looked like storage rooms, while ahead were signs to  _ Backstage _ . Catra squared her shoulders and stalked down the corridor.

She passed the entrance to the stage itself, then found herself among racks of costumes and stacks of props behind the stage. A few people moved about, shoving instruments into cases, wheeling away the horse prop that, up close, wasn’t all that realistic - the  _ magic of the theatre _ she supposed.

“And who might you be, hmmm?”

Catra blinked and pivoted, only to find herself face to face with the self declared  _ MC of MC’s _ Double Trouble. They had on a ball gown now and Catra had to do a little double take - she could have  _ sworn _ they were in a  _ suit _ not five minutes before. She blinked, “Uh. Quick costume change?”

“OH! Do you like? Just something I threw together, rags and hand me downs you know?” they studied their finger nails, “But that attempt at deflection, darling…. You aren’t staff. You aren’t an act, unless we’re  _ really _ dragging the dregs.”   
  


“Hey!”

“See, thin skin. Don’t make it in this world with that, darling.”

“I do! I’m a lawyer.”

“Ok now you’re just  _ giving _ me reasons to have Tara drop kick you over the road. You can’t be a very  _ good _ lawyer if you can’t read, babe. Sign says  _ staff only _ .”

“I need to see Shira… I mean Adora.”   
  


Double Trouble winced, “Oh. Oh no. You aren’t that,” they pointed at Catra and twirled the finger, “Stalker… wait, no, too girly, no beer gut. Hm, well, could be a different one.”   
  


“I am NOT a stalker.”

“I’m getting bored, you’re no fun and, really, you should  _ not _ be here. So, kindly  _ begone _ . Or you’re barred as well.”   
  


“You… you don’t own the place. Gloria does.”   
  


“Ohhhh name dropping. SO, you think she’ll vouch for you, hm? Got an  _ invite?” _

A cell-phone appeared in their hand, produced from  _ somewhere _ . Catra shook her head and winced, “Uh… she won’t. She, um… probably doesn’t remember me fondly.”

Double Trouble paused, hand on the dial button and a new expression came across their face: intrigue, “Oh ho ho…. Do telllll?” they dragged out the end of the word and arched an eyebrow, “Some naughtiness between you and Beau? Or you and Glimmer dearest? A long lost ex… oh go on, spill and I will delay the execution!”

A few people had paused to watch the exchange, but moved on. Catra clenched her fists and looked about, desperate for a glimpse. She could feel her resolve slipping. The desire to just  _ sprint _ away was just there, in the back of her mind, “Uh. No… nothing like that.”

“Ok, now you’re just being intentionally obtuse,” pouted Double Trouble, “And, frankly, you didn’t even give me a name! RUDE! Oh!” they snapped their fingers, “You’re the girl at the  _ front _ ! Oh the one with  _ claws _ , yesss… so, name?”

“Uh… C… Catra,” she felt like a deer in headlights, her mind a fog. She just wanted to  _ see _ Adora. And she wasn’t sure why. She wanted to be away from work. Away from the stress. To see something  _ warm _ .

Double Trouble furrowed their brow and looked about to dial the phone again, clearly bored, but then they froze again and that grin spread across their face once more - their  _ I’m going to cause trouble with this audience _ grin, “Catra, you say?”

She snapped her eyes to the MC and watched as they peered at her eyes.

With a flourish the phone vanished and Double Trouble stepped aside. Catra frowned, “Um… what’s… what are you doing?”

“ _ Adora _ is that a-way. Third room on the left. If you hurry, maybe she’s not dashed off to yet  _ another _ job.”

Catra blinked, “Why?”

Double Trouble shrugged, “Because I do enjoy a good show. Tragedy, comedy, whatev’s darling. And this could go in ANY direction. Now… run along, or do you  _ want _ Tara to woman-handle you. She’s very good…”

The brunette scoffed, then darted away, the MC’s smirk burned against her back. She slipped between a couple of racks, then spotted another short corridor. There were three doors and Catra slipped up to the third one. Her heart hammered in her chest and her mind swam as it tried to come up with rational reasons why she should just  _ go home _ ; go and sort out her files; go and just… get on.

But for what?

At least this way she could, maybe, just get some closure, and  _ then _ get on? Shut this down?

She didn’t knock, she just pushed the door open. It creaked as it swung back and Catra felt her mouth go dry.

The room was pretty small - a rack of clothes, a couch and a makeup table with a vanity mirror.

Adora stood next to the rack, trying to hook the basque back onto some sort of hanger with one hand. A cell-phone was pinned between her shoulder and ear.

“...ought I saw her again, Glim. I mean… what does it mean?” She paused and adjusted, not having heard the door at all, “NO I am  _ not _ fixating. I mean… no more than normal, right?”

Her voice was pensive, a little bit tense. It sounded clearer than on the Youtube videos. Catra stared and listened, her whole body tense as her jaw flexed. Adora was pretty much  _ naked _ and completely unselfconscious.

“I mean… three times, Glim. I  _ swear  _ I’ve seen her three times. And tonight. Right at the front. And if it is her… then  _ why _ ? I mean she… she cuts me out of her life, like… like I meant nothing… no Glim… no, she wasn’t  _ like _ that. I mean, I should’ve told her sooner, we’ve been over this. But… why now? Maybe I should give that other girl a chance, y’know? Maybe you’re right, I am fixating…”

Catra tensed, ready to bolt -  _ other girl _ . Her heart felt about to shatter -  _ but why _ ?  _ It’s been four years! What do you care? _

_ Go on. _

_ Say it. _

_ Why do you care? _

“I mean, Perfuma keeps going on about her.”

_ What? _

“And Sarah seems nice… wait, no…  _ Scorpia _ . I mean, I thought we were bad with stage names. But  _ Wildcat _ ? I mean… I’m kinda intrigued but… but if… yes I know, spread my wings. I just did!”

Even Catra heard the groan from the other end of the phone. She watched Adora as she finally got the underwear onto the hangar. The blonde sagged.

“I just… I can’t move on Glim. It’s… it’s like… why does she  _ bother _ ? And if it isn’t her, what’s wrong with my head that I can’t just  _ forget _ ?”

“Who?”

The word slipped out, Catra’s voice hoarse and thick with fear and anticipation. Adora startled and spun. Her blue eyes widened in shock and she answered on reflex it seemed.

“ _ Catra _ .”

And oh by the stars did those two syllables suddenly stir a sense of  _ hope _ . Because Adora didn’t sound shocked. She didn’t sound angry.

She sounded  _ relieved!  _ Almost reverent. Catra swallowed and managed an awkward wave.

“Hey, Adora.”

Gloria, on the phone, was clearly having some sort of fit as Catra could make out the words  _ “What’s going on? Do I need to come down there?” _

Adora raised the phone, eyes locked on Catra, “Gonna have to call you back Glim. Something just came up,” then she hung up. Catra saw her switch the device off and toss it onto the makeup table without looking away, “You’re… here?”

“I am… here,” managed Catra with a nod. She took a single step forward, almost into the room, then glanced down, “Um… can…?”

Adora nodded and Catra took a smaller step forward, which took her over the threshold. It was strange - she was wearing a power suit, dolled up with her makeup and mascara and yet she felt more naked than the woman before her who was pretty much only 1% fabric currently. The blonde regarded her, a small, nervous grin on her face, but her brow was creased with worry, “So.”

“Um, I saw you dance.”

Adora nodded, “And?” Her eyebrow raised, as if in challenge. Catra swallowed, but it felt thick in her throat.

“A...amazing.”

“Thank you.”   
  


They stood and stared at one another, the air thick with  _ so much _ . Adora coughed, then folded her arms. Not out of embarrassment, but perhaps as a barrier of sorts. She glanced to one side and her mouth twitched. Catra ran her hand through her slicked hair, “Um. I wanted to… talk?”

Adora faced her again and her arms unfolded. She seemed to relax, her face tentatively hopeful, “About?”

Catra hunched and shrugged, “Stuff.”

The blonde blinked. Her face shifted back to a frown, “Stuff?” Catra nodded and bit her lip, “You… you came to watch me dance. And then you wanted to talk about  _ stuff _ .”

Catra met those blue eyes. Adora twitched.

_ Uh oh _ . Catra’s brain was fuzzy, tired and strung out, but she knew she had  _ probably _ chosen the wrong thing to say then, “Um…”   
  


“Four years, Catra. Four. Years. You wander in, to… to… what? Ogle me? To watch me bare my soul on stage.”   
  


Catra snorted. She couldn’t help it. She grinned at Adora, “I mean, c’mon princess, you were bearing  _ something _ but not your  _ soul _ …” Adora’s face became a scowl.  _ Oh no, abort Catra, abort, bad words. _ It felt like it was Scorpia’s voice in her head and Catra’s smile vanished, “I mean…”

“So, this was so you could come and  _ judge _ me? Because you’re up in the corner office now, all career’d up?”

“It’s actually a side office,” mumbled Catra, distractedly. Adora’s chest had flushed and it was _very_ distracting. “And… I ... I mean, you’re a dancer! You…” she wasn’t _trying_ to denigrate it. She was about to say _an amazing_ _one_ , but Adora barrelled in.

“I  _ strip _ ? Is that what you’re saying? HM?” Adora had picked up steam, her fists clenched, her eyes wet with angry tears, “So you came for some T&A and then decided to come in here to try to  _ rub my face in it _ ? Well, newsflash Catra, this is my life, my choice. You don’t get to judge. Not… not now.”

“I’m not judg-”

“Not all of us can deal with it, y’know? Not all of us want the… the nine to five….”   
  


Catra laughed again, a high pitched, incredulous sound and her eyes went wide as Adora turned the glare up, “I’m not here to fuckin’ _judge_ _SHI-RAAAA,_ ” she was getting tense herself. This was not going how it should have. In her meetings with clients she had control, she steered the conversation. But here she felt backed into a corner and she _knew_ she wasn’t firing on all cylinders - to borrow an Emily phrase. And that meant she fell back on her college-era grumpy reactions.

“Oh really.”   
  


“Yes, REALLY. Y’know what, this,.. This was a bad idea. This…” she choked on the words and flung her hands up, then turned to leave.

“Then  _ why _ did you come, Catra?” Adora’s voice was hoarse and the pain in it, the confusion was clear. She wheeled back.

“Because you LEFT ME.”

She expected Adora to reel back, to see guilt on that face. Not  _ returned _ anger, “I left you?”

“You went  _ away _ when I needed you!”

“ _ You left me behind Catra.” _

That caught her off guard and she pulled her head back, “Wh… no. You dropped out. You… you couldn’t… didn’t want it.”   
  


“You…” Adora’s chin wobbled and she closed her eyes. Her shoulders rolled, which did fantastic things for her torso. Then she exhaled and her muscles relaxed, “Catra. Do you have any idea what it’s like to just…  _ want _ something… and know you can never have it.”

_ Talk about deja vu _ . Catra swallowed, “What, you… you didn’t think you’d graduate so you just packed it in?”

Adora gave her a look like she’d grown two heads, “And you call  _ me _ a dummy… no, Catra,” she heaved another sigh and flapped her hands, as if trying to return some circulation into them, “I… I tried. But there’s only so much you can go against something you haven’t got your heart set on, y’know… when the thing you really  _ really _ want…”

Her face became pained, almost ashamed. Catra scoffed, “So you dropped because… what, you didn’t  _ want _ to be a lawyer anymore? That was our dream! We’d... we’d go out there, we’d kick ass, we’d  _ help _ each other, look out for each other. But you just, what decided  _ nahhh screw that. _ ”

Adora laughed but it came out as a pained hiccough, “Because you just  _ stopped _ seeing me. Look out for each other? Help each other? You were always so busy. Studying, hanging with the society crowd...” she looked away, “Dating…”   
  


Catra tilted her head, “We… what? That’s stupid, I…”

“I never wanted any of that…”

“What,  _ never _ ?” Catra almost growled, “What you humoured me, because you thought you were… what? Better? You went along with law school because… what, Adora, what could  _ possibly _ be good enough to just… just… “ she hadn’t got the words. She shook her hands in front of her, “You didn’t want that? What… what DID you want Adora? To dance? To, to… to become some sort of aerobics instructor...? To...”

“YOU!”

Catra stumbled back from the force of Adora’s words; the sudden anguished cry from the near-naked blonde. The brunette stared at her, wild eyed, that sense of being cornered back again.

Or was it really being cornered, or suddenly  _ knowing _ what it was like to be seen. Adora’s face was a mask of grief. Catra swallowed, “What do you... mean?”

“I followed  _ you _ . I wanted to be with  _ you _ . But you didn’t want  _ me _ . You wanted the career. The… the people. And it was unfair of me to want you when you didn’t want me. You didn’t need that. Some… creepy friend who just would make it weird,” Adora hunched now and the movement made Catra flinch, “I… I tried to be a good friend. And then you just drifted. You were busy, we didn’t talk, you were seeing girls and… and it  _ hurt _ .”

Catra hadn’t dated. Not really. She’d done coffees, met for a drink. But that was because  _ Adora _ had been distant, right? And because she was sad that Adora wasn’t making a move on her. Which had just meant Adora wasn’t interested.

Except comparing these two  _ markedly _ different versions, there was clearly something amiss.

Adora continued, “You shut down. Became this… this put together woman - you weren’t the messy, crazy girl anymore. You were… I don’t even  _ know _ . It felt like I didn’t know you. And I tried. I wanted to be there but… you were sailing and I felt so,” she shrugged, “ _ not _ needed. You never needed me Catra. I helped at the start but… you had what made you happy. And I was just  _ there _ . And I couldn’t. I couldn’t have you and you didn’t need me, so what was I doing? Going to go sit in a law firm, waste away, give myself to… what? If you’d wanted me, maybe but… now I look at it, I’d have just been…”

_ Miserable _ . Catra stared at this vibrant, beautiful woman. This woman who came to life in motion and action. She tried to picture her in a firm, with someone like Weaver; picture her as she was ground down. Oh, no doubt she’d have done well. Probably pushed through. But the light would have gone out in those eyes.

Like the light had gone out in Catra’s.

She stared at Adora, at this girl who she had hoped loved her and had given up on ever thinking that she might. She inhaled, “It’s…” but her brain wasn’t sure where to go.

Adora chuckled mirthlessly and sagged, “Are you happy, though? I mean… you got what you wanted, right? You’re… you’re where you need to be.” The way Adora said it, it sounded like she was trying to affirm it to herself. Catra expected the blonde to nod with the statement.

The brunette thought of her week. Of her cycles of endless work. Of the never ending emails. The apartment she barely saw. The bed she barely slept in. The work that she thought was challenging and  _ stimulating _ , but was instead just… stress. She thought about what  _ happy _ meant.

Adora had wanted her. All along. But she had thought Catra  _ hadn’t _ cared.

“I didn’t _ know _ ,” whispered Catra as she shook her head, then she fixed the blonde’s gaze with her own. Her throat bobbed. She looked up and spoke louder, “I didn’t know. And I… I was so angry.”

“Why?” pleaded Adora, “I… I meant.. I was just a friend. I…”   
  


“You were  _ everything _ ,” croaked Catra. “Every. Thing. That’s… that’s why I went so mad. I was trying to… set a future. And hoping that, maybe, just maybe, you’d love me. And I…”   
  


“But the dating and… you didn’t even  _ look _ at me some days.”   
  


“How  _ could _ I?” wailed Catra, “You didn’t want me!”

“You idiot!”

“You dummy!”

“Stubborn!”

“Blind!”

“Stuck up… ninny!”

“ARG!” Catra actually growled and launched herself across the room, propelled by four years of wasted time, frustration and missed opportunity. Adora’s eyes widened as the suited woman sprang at her and she staggered back as Catra wrapped her legs around Adora’s waist and her hands came up to grip the side of Adora’s face. The blonde’s eyes widened and Catra’s exhausted mind just committed to the most basic of actions as she drew in a ragged breath. Adora licked her lips and Catra’s eyes traced the movement.

“Catra…?”

“Adora. I am going to kiss you. Because I need to be  _ very _ very clear. Being a legal professional.”

Adora nodded slowly, “Uh… huh.”

“I am miserable. I… I am literally going through the motions. Need, want, I haven’t got a fuckin’ clue, but  _ we _ ,” and here she rested her forehead against Adora’s, “Need to work on our communication.”

“Uh… you blocked me on everything.”

“Yes. Yes I did. Because I was heartbroken. Because I was in love with you and I thought you had given up on us. That you didn’t care or even want me  _ either _ , get it?”

“Think we established that,” Adora’s smile was confused, “um… I think you said you were gonna kiss me… but… it’s been four years. Isn’t this…”

“Do you not want me to?”

Adora stared at her and her pupils enlarged as Catra smiled at her. The blonde flexed her neck, “I didn’t  _ say _ that. But… are you su-”

Catra huffed and yanked Adora’s face to hers. Their lips met roughly, awkwardly, but Catra didn’t care. Adora tasted of vanilla and sweat; the heady perfume of her exertions. Catra wanted to drink it all in. To  _ know _ this woman. This light she’d tried to hide from, that she’d wanted, that she’d mourned.

And then Adora  _ snarled  _ against her lips and Catra shuddered. She slid her tongue against Adora’s mouth and felt the blonde’s lips part. Catra nipped at the girl’s bottom lip, then licked into her mouth. Their tongues met and Catra felt herself relax and finally noticed the firm grip Adora had on her ass. She wiggled her bottom and squeaked as Adora squeezed.

They broke apart, panting. Adora’s eyes were blown. Catra realised hers were as well.

The blonde managed to get a few words out, “We still need… to talk. About…”

“Stuff…” Catra nodded vigorously.

“Maybe… take things.. Slow?” Adora sounded…. Tentative? As if dangling an idea she wasn’t sure she liked the idea of.

“Four years. Four. Fucking. Years.”

“Kinda your fault.”

“That… is…” Catra looked away, but tugged at Adora’s hair gently, “Yes. And… I am  _ sorry _ . Because I fucked up. But YOU should have told me. AS my friend. You should have had  _ faith _ that I would’ve been ok, even if…”   
  


“I was scared,” nodded Adora. She sighed and looked at the ceiling, “And… I  _ didn’t _ want to hear you turn me down…”

Catra smiled softly, “We’re both cowards,” and she pulled Adora back to her. They kissed again, softer this time. But it wasn’t enough. Catra squeezed her legs and tried to push herself harder against Adora. She whimpered as Adora’s hands squeezed her again and she managed to breathe out, “ _ More _ .”

Adora looked like she was about to say  _ are you sure _ again but Catra glared at her, trying to beam the words into the blonde’s brain by sheer force of pent up sexual frustration and suppressed attraction. And then she bit Adora’s neck and suckled hard.

The blonde stumbled a bit, but kept upright. She had clearly been holding herself back, a rigid girder of  _ honour _ and  _ restraint _ and  _ respect _ . She made a guttural noise in her throat and Catra chuckled.

“Careful… what… you wish for,  _ Catra _ ,” she managed.

“Or what, you’ll tickle me?”

“Don’t wanna mess up your neat little look. All professional as you are?”

“Just ‘cos you’re naked…” snorted Catra. “Or are you… not dedicated?”

She yelped as Adora swung her about and planted her onto the dressing table. The blonde laid her palms against the mirror behind Catra and loomed over her. Her eyes were almost black from desire, “You’re right Catra. Dedication  _ is important _ ,” using Catra’s old mantra was probably a dirty trick - but the brunette knew that Adora pretty much fixated on it from those videos. Adora also seemed to know this, as she leaned closer, “Four years. I have a lot I want to go over. But right now?” She leaned in and nuzzled under Catra’s jaw, then trailed her tongue along the brunette’s throat. Catra gripped the edge of the table and tried to grind her core against Adora’s abs. “I think we can forget propriety… on the condition we  _ talk _ shit out. You don’t run away. You  _ stay _ . I  _ stay _ . And we work out… what’s next.”

“Talk, yes… just…” Catra turned wild eyes up at Adora, “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Adora’s stare shifted and a lazy smirk spread over her mouth, “Begging already?” she leaned back in and her tongue traced the shell of Catra’s ear. She whispered quietly, “You want this?”

“Yes,” moaned Catra.

“How bad?”

“As bad as you…” hissed the brunette.

“Fair… but I want to hear you tell me. Tell me what you want. Why. I want to hear you admit it,” Adora’s words were firm, not quite pleading, but with a certain air of command.

“I missed you. I am… so… done. I do everything and it isn’t making me happy and… I  _ need _ you. Every bit of you. I have  _ forever _ . Please… please…”

“Please,  _ what _ ?”

“Please fuck me. Make me yours.”

Adora pressed a kiss against Catra’s temple, “Thank you. Say if you need to stop.”

Catra nodded, then gasped as Adora tilted her chin up and pressed a harsh kiss against her lips. She moaned as Adora yanked the maroon blazer from her shoulders and tossed it to one side. The blonde traced a finger down the buttons of the blouse, then shrugged and tore it open. Catra spasmed and gasped as the blouse gaped apart then bit her lip as Adora yanked it halfway down her arms to pin them by her sides. The blonde’s free hand trailed down from Catra’s throat, over her collar bone, to pause between her pert breasts.

Slowly, Adora slid her hand into one of the cups of Catra’s bra and palmed the brunette's breast. She pulled back to roll a stiff nipple between thumb and forefinger. Catra moaned and pushed her chest out. Adora responded by bending down, then pulled Catra’s bra up so it released her tits. The garment she left bunched up above Catra’s breasts, whilst she set her tongue to work, lavishing the brunette’s chest with her attention. She released her grip on the torn blouse, but Catra kept her hands planted to the table-top.

She moaned as Adora suckled on her, gasped as she felt the gentle scrape of teeth against her buds and the squeeze of fingers. Then Adora’s hands were in her hair, and the blonde’s lips were on Catra’s and her tongue was  _ there _ , demanding entry into Catra’s mouth. She granted it, desperate and greedy for more.

For four years wasted. For four years of  _ pointless _ anger. For the one thing that was  _ missing _ .

Adora.

She could weather pain and anguish and stress if Adora was there. She could learn to balance if Adora was there, giving her a reason. She could actually, maybe, think of a future if  _ Adora was there. _

She almost cried with relief, with hope.

Then Adora pulled away and traced kisses down Catra’s front, nipping at her olive skin. Between bites and kisses, she murmured words, “ _ Missed you,” “Mine,” “Thank you,” “Stay,” “Never going anywhere,” “Staying with you.” _

Catra’s soul lightened and she wanted to grab Adora’s hair, to pull her up. But the blonde laced her fingers between Catra’s and squeezed. The touch reassured but it still didn’t feel like  _ enough. _

Adora planted a firm kiss right at Catra’s core. She felt it through her suit slacks, through her now-likely-ruined panties. Adora gently bit at Catra’s mound through her clothes, then nuzzled at Catra’s thigh, “These  _ have _ to go…”

Her hands disentangled from Catra’s and swiftly unbuttoned the slacks. Then the blonde yanked them down Catra’s legs, but didn’t remove them. Instead she hoisted Catra’s legs up until her knees hit her chest and she was pushed back against the mirror. Adora leaned forwards and inhaled, then made a satisfied humming noise. She kissed Catra’s thigh and sucked a hickey into the skin. She nipped and suckled, alternating between legs as she held Catra pinned. The brunette whined and writhed, but with her blouse down and the position of her legs, coupled with the teasing, tickling sensation near her crotch, she could work out much beyond faintly kicking her ankles and flexing her fingers against the wood grain.

And then Adora laid the flat of her tongue against Catra’s slit and dragged it up, slowly. Catra let out a keening whine and practically vibrated with anticipation. Her head lolled backwards and thunked against the mirror glass as a lazy grin spread over her face.

“Fuck yesssss.”

“You taste so fucking good,” murmurred Adora, “Can’t believe…”

“Less regret… more  _ eating _ . Your girl needs you.”

Catra looked down and saw blue eyes staring up at her in the narrow gap between her legs. Adora blinked, “My girl, huh?”

“Yes. And there better be no competition.”

“Did you… just make yourself my girlfriend?” Adora’s smirk was obscured by Catra’s mound, but the brunette  _ knew _ it was there.

“You gonna use that mouth to talk orrrrrrrrr,” Catra hunched and groaned as Adora took the initiative. The brunette gasped as her clit was sucked in between Adoras lips. She bit her lip as Adora lathed at it with her tongue, then slid a finger into her dripping pussy. The thrusts were slow, almost excruciating, as Adora teased her. Catra whined as a second finger slid into her. Adora picked up the pace and Catra found herself rocking her hips to get more. Always  _ more _ .

She would take whatever Adora gave her. She was presumptuous. She was assuming a lot. But fuck it, they’d gotten lost by  _ not _ just outright stating stuff. May as well overplay.

She grunted rhythmically, her ability to speak coherently lost. She felt the wave build inside her. And then Adora sucked her labia and Catra flinched. She looked down and Adora bit at her inner thigh and Catra moaned as the wave dipped faintly. But then Adora ramped her up again with a curl of her fingers. As she approached again, Adora slowed, the sudden change enough to make Catra groan and whimper as she tried to chase Adora’s fingers with her hips. The third time Adora denied her Catra felt tears running down her face and she managed a strangled, “Puh… puh… puhl….p…”

Adora gave her a tender lick and stared up between her legs. She pulled back and Catra whimpered, then tried to slide down, to push herself towards Adora. The blonde cocked her head, “We put this off so long… but I want you to see how beautiful you are to me.”   
  


Catra yelped as Adora pulled back, then flipped her over. Her chest slapped against the wood of the table and Catra moaned as her nipples scraped against the surface. She gasped as Adora then pressed herself against Catra’s back, her ample breasts weighing heavily against Catra’s shoulder blades. Fingers threaded through her hair and gently tugged her up.

“Look at you baby. This is the girl I love. The girl who  _ lets go _ . Who doesn’t have to hide what she loves. Or follow a plan or some… power trip.”

Catra stared into the mirror, her mind foggy still, but from lust. She stared at her reflection - hair mussed up and gently gripped by Adora’s strong hand; her face streaked with mascara; her mismatched eyes blown wide and her lips puffy from bruising kisses. Her face was flushed and her mouth was open, panting.

Adora nuzzled her cheek, then pressed a kiss behind Catra’s ear. She pulled back and Catra felt the woman kick her legs a little further apart, baring her to the room. She stared at her reflection as Adora stroked fingers over her wet folds. Catra, her arms still restricted, gripped the table edge and bit her lip, unable to tear her eyes away.

She felt Adora card three fingers through her wetness, felt them bunch up. She gave a strangled gasp as the blonde thrust three fingers, coned together, deep into her, then grunted as Adora set a punishing rhythm. The blonde’s free hand reached around and made slow circles on Catra’s clit, which increased in tempo with the brutal, unrelenting thrusts.

Catra’s voice as a series of rapid exhalations as her pelvis bounced against the table's edge. Her eyes were wild and her mouth parted as she tried to keep her breathing steady. She managed cracked cries and gasps, but her spasming body didn’t know the best way forward. The wave built and then  _ crashed _ through her. She let out a silent scream, her gaze locked on her reflection as she came apart.

Her muscles locked as she vibrated. Her fingers flexed and drummed a pattern against the wood and her jaw twitched as she was the expression of absolute  _ bliss _ pass over her face.

Exhausted and panting, she slumped onto the table, her cheek against the cold wood. Her eyes fluttered and she sighed. Hands threaded through her hair and cupped her chin. She felt her head raise, tugged up and held in place by a gentle grip of her chin.

Adora leaned over her once more and stared into the mirror with her. Catra smiled, drunk on her release. Adora smiled at her, “So beautiful.”

Catra blinked lazily, then sighed happily as Adora turned her head to kiss her softly. She sank against the table and closed her eyes. She had a sense of motion, but it ceased and she felt herself pressed against something warm. She was aware of her arms being raised and her bra and blouse being removed, along with her pants and shoes. She felt something soft under her. There was more movement and then Adora’s warm body pressed against her. A blanket fell across them and Adora’s arms wrapped around her. Catra relaxed, perhaps for the first time in  _ months, _ and felt sleep suddenly pull her down.

She awoke with a start, eyes wide. She wasn’t panicking at the strange room, which she felt  _ should _ be a different cause to panic. But then her brain clicked into gear and the memories flooded back. A wave of apprehension, confusion, fear and guilt rolled into her. Catra felt her breathing spike, but then a soft hand cupped her face and turned her head.

Blue eyes regarded her sternly and Catra blinked, immediately soothed.

Adora was here.  _ Still _ here.

In her changing room.

In a bar.

Catra looked around, panic once again threatening to overwhelm her, “What ti-”

“Just gone midnight. It’s ok,” Adora soothed, “DT checked in, I have the keys. The others are out there having a drink and… you can leave by the back stairs. If… if that’s what you want.”

Adora looked away and the guilt ratcheted up in Catra’s chest. Maybe she should leave. Adora was happy. She had a life. She…

The words of a song drifted into her memory.

_ We must be strong. _

_ And we must be brave. _

_ We gotta find every bit of strength _

_ That we have and never let it go _

She’d found what was missing. Found it again after four years.

Like hell she was walking away - Determination, after all.

She reached up and clasped Adora’s hand, “What part of  _ your girl _ , didn’t you get, dummy?”

Adora’s blue gaze snapped back to her, while Catra turned her head to plant a kiss against the blonde’s palm. Adora blinked, “Um… I…”

“Ok, no  _ umming _ . Use your words.”

Adora snorted, then shoved Catra, who giggled, then snuggled up to the buff woman. Adora shook her head, “I was… afraid you’d wake up. Regret it all and…. Run.”

“Eh…. I mean, not the craziest idea? But… after  _ that _ ?” Catra tilted her head up and rested her chin on Adora’s chest, “I don’t think I can actually walk.”

“Soooo you’re biding your time.”

“I bided for four years. Which was a shitty plan in retrospect. Do  _ not _ recommend. Also… I am…  _ sorry _ . And… and I want whatever you’re willing to give me. If you hate me or…”

Adora scoffed and hauled Catra up until the petite woman was laid atop her, both still under the blanket, “What did anything about what we just did indicate I hate you? I  _ never _ hated you. I fucking  _ missed _ you. I had to learn to be happy… without you.”   
  


Catra swallowed, “And.. were you? Are you, I mean?”

“You can learn to do a lot of things. I was happy. BUT… I was always going to miss you. The pain would go away, but there were days…” Adora sighed, then smiled. “But I don’t  _ want _ to be happyish without you. If there’s an option to be happy  _ with _ you, I’ll take it.”

Catra smiled and laid her head down on Adora’s chest. She luxuriated in the warmth and sighed, then shifted, “So. Um… my job.”

“Yeah?”

“Do uh… you want me to quit?”

Adora was silent, then tilted Catra’s head up. The blonde had a confused look on her face, “Why?”

“Well.. because it… or… well, it took me away?”

“That’s… no, Catra, no, I do not want you to quit your job. Unless  _ you _ want to quit your job? I am not going to tell you how to live your life… only ask that you have room for me in it?”

Catra stared at the blonde and smiled, “I think… I’m gonna quit my job. Not now! But… I need something better. I’m miserable. I… it’s not satisfying.”

Adora frowned, “You sure?”

“I mean… seeing you again kinda helped me realise?” she reached up to stroke Adora’s face, “That big blonde forehead of yours puts so much in perspective.”   
  


“Ouch, I’m wounded….” pouted Adora. Catra grinned, then slowly began to shimmy down Adora’s front.

“Oh? Well… I better kiss it better then…”

As Adora leaned back with a contented sigh, Catra mused on the next steps.

They weren’t stable. Or secure. Or certain. But they were starting.

Maybe this was an ass-backwards way of doing things - but then again, neither of them was exactly the sort to do things by halves. Dedication, forthrightness, those were their ways.

So, next would be Adora screaming Catra’s name. Then they’d go out, hand in hand and Catra would face the inquisition. She wasn’t expecting a  _ warm _ welcome from Gloria or Glimmer or whatever she was doing with herself now. But she’d take the battery for Adora’s sake.

After that?

Well, it was the weekend. And they needed to sort things out. 

“Catra?” Adora’s pleasure addled voice distracted the brunette momentarily from her oral ministrations, as she feasted on the blonde.

“‘es?”

“Just so you know… you’re coming… home with me tonight.”   
  


“Uh huth?”

“And you aren’t leaving until Sunday. That’s,  _ ahhh _ … a promise.”

Catra grinned against Adora’s skin and licked up.

Yes. They were starting. And they were going to  _ continue _ if she had anything to say about it.

**Author's Note:**

> SO! Some shout outs in there! See if you can spot some LIVE WIRE homages and some BOWHAWK love ;) 
> 
> Many thanks to my beta readers! 
> 
> AND I TOLD ALL Y'ALL I'D MAKE THIS A ONE SHOT!
> 
> I'm... I'm gonna go lie down now.


End file.
